GWTW ending retold and continued
by Chris OHB
Summary: This is my version of how their final conversation should be... In this story the conversation is far from final though... :-)
1. The talk

_Whenever I read through the final pages of the book I felt- as most of you I imagine- that this is not the way their final conversation should have been... So, this is how I thought it should be... Enjoy... And don't forget to tell me what you think! Ideas, corrections, suggestions, anything that comes into your mind while reading those pages, feel free to share! Your reviews of any kind are both very welcome and most appreciated! Thank you in advance! :-) :-)_

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CHAPTER 1

She sensed his presence in the house the moment she went through the door step. He was there, she could tell. All of a sudden the agony she was feeling vanished, replaced, rather, by a feeling of sadness; sadness so unbearable that was closer to grief. She climbed the stairs as if with effort and she stood at his room's door.

"Come in," she heard his voice from inside.

She sat heavily in the armchair next to him.

"Is she gone?" he asked.

She nodded. Rhett sighed.

"She was a great lady, a very great lady."

Silence fell for a while.

"Pour us something to drink, will you?" she asked and he carried it out.

She took a strong sip and felt it burning its way down her throat and spreading a hint of warmness on her cold members. His presence alone filled her with an overwhelming urge to talk. She needed this load on her chest unburdened.

"I am left alone after all," she said slowly. "There is nothing left to connect me with the past or this city."

She turned her head and looked at him.

"I want to go away," she told him. "Leave everything behind and just go. I can't stand any more tragedies and deaths. I want peace, serenity. I want to remember how it is to be happy. Become who I was when you first met me. Remember?"

"I do," he said and he smiled sadly. "I know exactly what you mean. I feel this way several months now. Since…" he stopped abruptly. "I know how you feel," he repeated as if to himself.

"Nothing is bonding me with Atlanta anymore," she sighed. "Maybe nothing ever bounded me in the first place. Back then, during the war, it held incredible charm, it had bewitched me. After the war, it was offering me opportunities; opportunities I was thirsty to exploit. None of these mean anything to me anymore. They ceased to interest me long ago. They can't fill the emptiness inside me. I want, I need different things now."

She took a deep breath.

"I need friends, people that will love me for who I am. I need to feel that I belong somewhere, that I'm accepted. And I need a family…again," she hushed.

He was looking at her calmly and there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"My God, Rhett. How did we end up like this? There is this intense gap that keeps us apart. Entire walls that me myself made with my own hands, piece by piece."

"It was not entirely your fault, you know," he admitted. "I made so many mistakes myself. I was never neither completely frank with you, nor open. You wouldn't let me and I was too afraid of getting hurt."

"Remember what you once told me? You are throwing away happiness with both hands," she laughed hoarsely."It is now that I understand what you meant back then. Now that it's too late. What did I ever know about happiness? I was always seeking it the wrong way and from the wrong people, growing more and more indifferent to those giving it to me generously; like Melanie and you. And now that I've realized it, it's no use. Nothing can change. Melanie is dead and I've lost you long ago."

She turned and looked at him.

"Haven't I, Rhett?"

He smiled wearily.

"It took you so long to realize these things," he said calmly. "You were always so selfish. Where did all the selfishness lead you? What good did come of it? People need love, Scarlett. For so many years I was trying to make you understand it. I was constantly giving love, but you were always wide shut. I don't know, maybe I was trying the wrong way," he wondered. "I was responding to your selfishness with selfishness, to your irony with irony, to the pain you were causing me with more pain. But you are so harsh with the people who love you. You take their love and hold it above their heads like a whip. I knew that if I held my cards wide open, you would have used it against me, you would have humiliated me and make me regret the very moment. So, we were trapped in a vicious circle with constant insults and meanness and anger and hate," he sighed. "I was trying to find my internal peace with Bonnie."

She shivered at the sound of her name.

"I was giving her all the love you denied. But she loved me and it was a blessing I could love and pet another human being. Bonnie was taking all the worship I was giving her and she was giving it back. She was so like you. She was the same rebellious, wild little animal you used to be before the war changed you. When she went, I was left alone with the guilt you had the courtesy to lay upon me."

He stopped abruptly. He stood up and poured himself another drink.

"I am not mad at you, nor do I accuse you of anything; not anymore," he went on and lighted up a cigar. "You never learned to love and to give. It's not your fault," he looked straight into her watery eyes. "You have always been a spoiled child, Scarlett. When you wanted something, nothing could come in your way. You were claiming it so passionately and stubbornly. You weren't like anyone I've known; you were bad tempered, independent, stubborn. I fell in love with you for all these qualities, since the first time I laid eyes on you. I struggled to beat it, I struggled like crazy to forget you. I even went to war trying to escape your spell. But I couldn't. You were constantly in my mind. The war changed you so much. It forced you to confront with reality soon and abruptly. You suffered so much. I was fully aware of what you've been through. I knew you didn't love me, when I married you, but I was madly in love with you and I couldn't find any other way to have you. I wanted to take care of you. To offer you everything. So that you could stop fighting and let me do the fighting for you. I thought that this way I would make you happy and make you love me. But, you see, we were never alone in this marriage. There was always Ashley's ghost. It was the only thing the war didn't make you forget. And that was driving me crazy with jealousy. I knew you were praying he would be me; that he would be the one kissing you, the one holding you in his arms, the one making love to you. Everything and always him. You know, Scarlett, it is very tiring and soul-destroying to fight a ghost."

She nodded wearily and she saw him startle.

"A ghost," she repeated as if realizing it for the first time. "My God, you are so right. A ghost from the before war South. That's exactly what Ashley was in my life. My adolescence dreams," she sighed. "That war brought down my whole world, Rhett. It destroyed everything I believed in, everything I counted upon: my mother, Pa, Tara, my friends. Ashley was the only thing left to bind me with the past and the life in Georgia. I grasped from him and the love I felt for him and I was struggling unconsciously not to let go. I was afraid that, if I did, I would have to give up on eighteen years in Tara. And these years were sacred to me; the parties, the barbecues, my friends, my family, my dreams. I quit making dreams abruptly," she confessed. "I quit, when I saw Georgia burned down and Mother dead. From that day on, one thing was governing my life ruling everything I ever did since: never to be hungry again. Nor me, nor any of my people. It became an obsession; an obsession later linked with my love for money. And I never managed to get over it. Not even now, that I have everything. In terms of material goods that is."

She paused for a bit, her voice too unsteady. She had a sip of her drink. He was looking at her, his face serious, listening with genuine interest. The woman revealing her soul in front of him was not the shallow Georgia girl anymore. She was an unexpectedly mature woman.

"I was living with illusions and lies," she went on. "But it's been a while since I was brought back to reality. When I decided that the past was long gone and no matter how hard I think about it, facts couldn't change. Nothing could change and I had to learn to live with it. And that evening on his birthday, I was certain the circle was finally closed. I was there, alone with him, we were talking, he was holding my hand and I felt nothing. Only tenderness, like talking to my best friend, the only one left from the past. The night that followed erased everything from my mind for good. Because you were there now. You told me you loved me. But when I woke up, you were not there and I panicked. I was waiting for you three days in a row, sleepless, shaking in the thought that something had happened to you. I asked everyone about you, but they wouldn't tell me anything. I went almost mad these days. And then you were back, and you were as harsh and ironical, as you were before. As if nothing ever happened between us. I tried to persuade myself that I was wrong to let myself hope. I regretted trusting your words. And then you left again and I was alone again. But then the baby came and I thought that everything could be corrected. I wanted to write it to you, to make you come back. Yet I was afraid you would think I'm coward and laugh at me. I missed you so and that baby had made me so happy. I wanted it so badly, more than anything I ever wanted in my life. Then it was gone," her voice broke. "And I thought everything went along with it. Alas, I lost so many more since that baby."

Hot tears were dropping down her cheeks, tears of sorrow mixed with relief. She looked at him and saw pain in his eyes for all their common loses.

"You were right. We were trapped in a vicious circle. We were trying avidly to hurt each other. Avidly, Rhett. Did you ever understand why?" she asked.

"No," he said breathlessly. "I never did."

Silence fell again. Each one lost into their own thoughts.

He turned to her after a while to find her fast asleep on the armchair. He felt something that resembled tenderness warming him. It had been so long since he experienced anything but pain. And even that had become something indefinite with time; something closer to numbness. Being used to feeling empty and unable of any sentiment, this slight warmness surprised him. He lifted her up in his arms gently and she obeyed, the way she obeyed anyone stronger and more powerful than herself. He lay her down on her bed and covered her with a blanket. She opened her eyes and looked wearily into his.

"You've been through enough for one morning. Get some sleep," he said kindly and she did.


	2. A shift of perspective

_Thank you all for viewing and reviewing! It took me a while to update and I apologize for the delay. This is chapter 2. Please, please tell me what you think!_

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CHAPTER 2

He returned to his room. He poured another drink and sank in the sofa. He unwillingly began to reflect on everything he had just heard. She had never talked to him like that before. It was unbelievable. They have lived under the same roof for so many years and yet that was the first time they managed to have an honest conversation. How could a simple conversation have been such a difficult thing to do? Did they have to lose everything to just talk without malice and contempt and intention to hurt? One thought occupied his mind; he didn't know her as well as he thought after all. All the things she said… He should have seen something. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall a thing. Perhaps he was too blind, too certain on his beliefs for her. He would boast that he could read her like an open book and still he didn't notice the change of feelings so long hoped for. It was profoundly clear now; he had his part in this mess they liked to call a relationship. Yes, he had loved her for years and years, but how did he make her see it? He didn't. That was the plain truth. Every time she was getting closer to understand him, he was ruining everything and they had to start over. And vice versa. He sighed. So many mistakes, so many misunderstandings, so many misread signals. Was everything lost? He wondered. Maybe not. Her words had stirred feelings he didn't know he have. A tiny flame was still burning trying to warm his half dead soul.

He closed his eyes and pictured the very first time he laid eyes on her; tall for her sixteen years, wearing that green dress, glowing, so young, so fresh. And her eyes, her emerald eyes. He could even recall her perfume. A slight scent of rosewater. What an overwhelming sight she was! She took his breath away. And then he pictured the woman he saw in jail. Yes, she was still breathtakingly beautiful, yet there was something harsh and violent about her. Something was missing. She had lost that glow. The glow happy and careless people have; the people who have everything they need. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember her glowing like that ever again. She was never happy again. Ever. That realization hurt. His wife was a woman unhappy for more than ten years. A miserable, empty life.

He stood up and went to her bedroom. He waited and listened closely. She was sleeping. He could tell from her steady breathing. He went over the bed. Her pale face was calm. God, she was so beautiful! And he felt some traces of love in him. Few, maybe too few, enough though not to let him go. No, he couldn't just leave and abandon her like that. He had always assumed nothing could affect her. The woman sleeping in that bed was suffering, though. In her own different way perhaps, but suffering she was nonetheless. Her pride wouldn't allow her to grieve, but she was broken too; she had lost a baby and a child and on top of that her only friend. She needn't lose a husband. They were left alone. She was right about that one. But a weak voice deep inside was telling him that they were together in many ways; the loss, the pain, the grief. Tonight, for the first time, he felt so close to her heart. He longed to feel its warmth for years. He could pretend it was too late and he didn't care. Still he couldn't find the courage to leave. Not without her.

* * *

The next noon found them brokenhearted drinking coffee in the parlour. Melanie's funeral was over, everything was over.

"The old South was buried with her," Rhett said and the truth in these words stroke Scarlett in the face like a slap.

She looked at him, her eyes red and swollen from all the crying.

"What now?" she asked breathlessly.

"You said you wanted to leave everything behind and go," he said.

"I did. But I can't think of a single place that would make me feel any better. Not even Tara," she sighed.

"I am leaving for Charleston with the nine o'clock train," he said in a flat voice. "I intended to tell you yesterday, when you came home from Marietta, but then the time wasn't right."

She sucked in her breath. A sudden feeling of panic made her eyes enormous. Her lips began to tremble. Was he going to leave her after all they shared yesterday? She had hoped against hope that something had changed. He was so understanding, so tender, so... He was her friend again, not the scary stranger he had became over the last few months. His lips parted and she remained silent, waiting.

"I wonder if..." he paused searching for the right words.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Could he possibly consider...? Please God, she silently prayed, her eyes eagerly searching for a sign on his face. She could only see his hesitation though and her spirits sank.

"I wonder if you would like to come as well," he finally said.

"Are you asking me to come with you?" she questioned, unsure if she understood correctly.

"I'm asking if you want to come to Charleston," he repeated cautiously.

He was keeping her at arm's length, she could tell, but she didn't care. No matter how he'd put it, he was indeed asking her to leave with him. There was still hope, she wasn't mistaken.

"I would like that very much," she said quietly trying to keep a steady voice.

"It's settled then," he said. "I'll go downtown to make the necessary arrangements. I have already packed my things. I suggest you do the same," he stood up.

She grasped his hand.

"Thank you, Rhett," she whispered, gratitude written all over her face.

Their eyes locked for a few moments, her hand still holding his tightly.

"Come here," he asked softly and pulled her in his arms.

She cuddled in his chest full of trust. She knew it deep inside that everything was going to be alright after all; as long as she was with Rhett.

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_Please review! Thank you in advance!_


	3. Charleston

_Blessed are the weekends... :-) This is chapter 3 featuring their very first day in Charleston! Thank you all so much for viewing and reviewing... Keep doing so for this chapter too! Thank you in advance! :-) Enjoy!_

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CHAPTER 3

Over the last few months she was experiencing an odd feeling whenever left alone; she was feeling like a complete stranger in that huge house of hers. Nothing around her looked familiar anymore. The wallpapers were too dark, the curtains too thick, the furniture too heavy. Once Rhett left the room, the same feeling came back more intense than ever. It was suddenly larger and more hostile than she could stand. The walls were suffocating her, she could hardly breathe. She had to leave, they had to leave, that was the only thought in her mind. She climbed the stairs, rushed into her bedroom and threw a few dresses on the bed. She didn't even care to pick. She was about to call for Pansy to help her pack, when her eyes fell on the close door across the hall. Her feet began to walk against her own will and within seconds she found herself in Bonnie's room after what seemed like ages ago. Everything was in place exactly as they used to be, as if she was never gone. Her daughter's presence was so vivid around her; she could almost smell her girlish smell, she could almost hear her laughter, her piping voice. Hot tears pricked on her eyes. The pain was so sharp that made her gasp for air. She sat on the small bed suddenly exhausted and lifeless.

Rhett found her there an hour later, lost in her memories. He put a hand on her shoulder. She rested her cheek on it. It was cold, slightly trembling. They stayed put for a while in heavy silence. Then he helped her up and they closed the door behind them heads down.

They left Atlanta without saying goodbye to anyone, without looking back.

* * *

They arrived at Charleston early the next morning. While waiting for the door to open, she couldn't help but admire Rhett's parental home. It was an old two-storey mansion in one of Charleston's older neighborhoods, at South Battery Street. And a very well preserved one as well. Eleanor was taken by surprise, when she saw her daughter-in-law standing at her doorstep next to her son.

"My darlings! What a pleasant surprise!" she took him in her arms. "Rhett, why didn't you tell me Scarlett was coming as well?"

"It was a last minute decision, Mother," he said.

"Welcome, my dear," she kissed Scarlett in both cheeks and hugged her close to her.

"Thank you," she muttered taken aback by the warm reception.

She had only met Eleanor once before that horrible day of Bonnie's funeral; probably the worst time in the world to make acquaintances. She could vaguely remember meeting her and receiving her condolences. But that was that. She left the next day and, as far as she could tell, they didn't exchange another word.

"Do come in," she said joyfully.

Rhett's home was as warm and cozy as its hostess. Her eyes wandered around the parlor while they waited for coffee to be served; it was decorated with fine taste. The furniture was old, but classy. Every object, picture or ornament was placed exactly where it should be, grace emerging from every corner. It was a familiar, comforting feeling. It took her a few moments to detect the where and when, but suddenly it struck her; Tara… Home… As it used to be back then, when Ellen was alive. When her delicate touch was evident wherever you looked. For a precious moment she thought she even heard the rustle of her dress. Her gentle voice echoed in her ears, a sound she thought she had long forgotten. She shivered at the memory and her eyes became moist. And then she heard it again.

"Scarlett…" her soft hand caressed her arm. "Scarlett…"

The illusion fading it came as a shock that Eleanor was in fact calling her. Her dark eyes, as dark as her son's, were full of concern searching her face for signs of discomfort.

"Are you unwell, my dear?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Butler," she mumbled. "I was just absentminded, that's all."

"Mrs. Butler?" she puzzled. "Why, you are Mrs. Butler too, darling. You don't want people to be confused, do you? Pray, call me Eleanor."

She gave her a shy smile.

"Miss Eleanor it is then," she nodded.

Her first day in Charleston passed by as if in a dream. Never in her life had she expected to find another person so like her mother. Eleanor's gentle manners, her sweetness, her calm strength bewitched her and all she could do was stare at her with awe. Eleanor, unaware of the effect she had on her daughter-in-law, misread her attitude as uneasiness and embarrassment and she did everything in her power to make her feel comfortable and at home. She took her for a long walk around the city's center introducing her proudly to every acquaintance they met, she made special arrangements for dinner, she even invited her aunts Eulalie and Pauline over for tea to please her. And Scarlett accepted all this pampering with pure thankfulness. It had been so long since anyone cared about her welfare.

After supper Rhett poured them a glass of brandy and they sat on the parlor to savor it. Eleanor had the gift of storytelling, just like her son, and she was easily enticed. One story brought another and they stayed up till late listening to hilarious stories about her family. Scarlett didn't want the evening to end. Yet, it did.

"I think it's time for me to retire," Eleanor said trying unsuccessfully to hold back a yawn. "I have a very busy schedule tomorrow and I need a good night's sleep if I want to make it through the day."

"Is it that committee of yours again?" Rhett smiled. "Mother, you have to take it easy. You will tire yourself out."

"I won't have my son telling me what I should or shouldn't do," she pretended to be angry, but her eyes gleamed with love. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much."

"What committee?" Scarlett asked haltingly and she felt his eyes fixed on her.

"It's a fundraising committee, my dear. We raise money with bazaars of handcrafts for the Confederate Home for Widows and Orphans," she explained. "I will tell you all about it over breakfast tomorrow, if you care to listen," she smiled.

"I would like that. Thank you, Miss Eleanor."

"Goodnight then, my darlings. See you in the morning."

Silence fell between them for a while. It was the first time they were alone since they arrived.

"I think we should get some rest as well. It was a long day," he stood up. "Let me show you to your room."

He was already climbing upstairs. She hurried behind him. She had hoped that he wouldn't want his mother to know they have separate bedrooms. To her disappointment he apparently didn't care.

"This is where you'll sleep," he opened the door to the guestroom. "My room is across the hall."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he looked too impatient to take a leave and she regretted it.

"Is there anything else you need?" he asked.

"No. I'll be fine. Goodnight, Rhett," she said quietly.

"Goodnight, Scarlett."

* * *

No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't sleep. She was tired; her body was aching after a night spent in the train, her eyes were burning with sleepiness. Yet she couldn't sleep. She took a look at the clock on her nightstand. It was only eleven o' clock. How on earth would that night go by? If only Rhett was in the mood for talking… But he was in such a hurry to retire. They had spent most of their time in the train in silence, occasionally engaged in small talk, and that was it. Since they arrived, Eleanor was with them the whole time and she was doing most of the talking. She had this intense feeling that he was avoiding being alone with her. He seemed much more relaxed when his mother was present. If only they had shared a room… She so longed for a conversation in bed. She had missed them more and more over the years.

Another hour or so passed by. She couldn't stop thinking about her husband across the hall. Suddenly she pushed the covers away and without giving it a second thought for fear she would regret it she was out of her room, crossed the hall and knocked quietly at his door. Once done, panic took over her. What was she thinking? She hadn't even come up with a plausible excuse for knocking on his door in the middle of the night. And she was wearing nothing but her nightgown… Just when she was about to turn and run, the door opened. He was dressed, but the way his shirt was buttoned up suggested that he probably wasn't a few minutes ago.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"I'm sorry to bother you… I just couldn't sleep and… You know how I can't sleep when in a bed other than my own…" she paused breathless.

"No, I don't think I do," his voice flat.

"Well, I can't and I wonder… I don't want to be alone… Not tonight…" she hesitated.

"What do you want, Scarlett?" he interrupted her mumbling.

She could as well say it. She had already lost her dignity just by standing there. She had nothing else to lose…

"Can I, please, sleep next to you?"

There, she had said it. She saw him startle, but nothing other than that. She silently cursed the darkness; she couldn't make out his expression. He was silent for what seemed like ages possibly processing just how absurd her query was. And then, just like that, the door was wide open inviting her in. Her heart was pounding on her chest, her body shivering with excitement. He lay down on the left side of the bed. He remembered then… She always preferred the right side. She climbed in next to him and lay there still, barely even breathing. She could feel his body tensed as well, but its warmth was long missed and welcome. She was listening to his steady breathing and she knew he wasn't sleeping either. But she made the question just the same.

"Are you asleep?"

"No, I'm not," he sighed irritated.

"Would you like to talk for a while?" she asked again.

"I'm tired, Scarlett. You are tired too. Let's just sleep, shall we?"

No bed talking then.

"You are right. I'm sorry. Goodnight," she resigned.

"Goodnight."

She made a move to hold his hand, but the moment she touched him his body stiffened.

"Don't push it, Scarlett," he warned, his voice dangerously quiet.

So she withdrew to her side of the bed. Eventually fatigue beat her and she surrendered herself to a dreamless sleep.

A far from unwelcome change took place during the night. When she woke up the next morning, she found her husband's arm wrapped around her, holding her tightly on his chest, his lips buried in her hair. She smiled. She remained still for fear he would wake up to realize he was holding her and pull away. She wanted to stay in his arms like that forever. She had forgotten how their bodies fitted perfectly together. God, she had missed him so much! His body stirred and she felt his breathing changing. He was awake. Yet he didn't pull away.

"It looks like someone else is pushing it after all," she joked, but her joke was missed.

His body began to drift apart and she had to grasp his arm to stop him.

"Please, don't," she pleaded. "I didn't mean it that way."

He hesitated for a moment, but eventually he gave in. His lips back in her hair, he inhaled her smell.

"It looks like old habits die hard," he muttered.

She shuffled a giggle.

"I'm glad they do," she sighed caressing his arm around her.

Muted laughter rumbled in his chest.

"Good morning," he kissed her hair.

"Good morning indeed," she agreed.

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_Please review and tell me what you think... :-)_


	4. Another fall

_Thank you all for viewing and reviewing!You make my day brighter! It was a productive weekend I must admit... Two new chapters... Enjoy!_

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CHAPTER 4

For the next couple of days the fact alone that she was allowed in his bed filled her with an overwhelming feeling of newfound hope. A certainty that a barrier was down and she would somehow find her way into his heart again. She would wake up full of energy and spent most of the day with Eleanor. For Eleanor was as good as her word. She introduced her to her Committee the very next day of their arrival and she volunteered to help in any possible way. It was a welcome offer. The next bazaar was only a month away. The time was pressing and there were still so many things to be done. Scarlett tried her best to make a good impression to the ladies. Not only for Eleanor, but because she knew Rhett was watching her carefully.

Yes, the old cat-at-a-mouse-hole look was back. The same alert, eager, waiting look he used to have early in their marriage, back when she still mattered to him. He wasn't trying to hide it from her anymore though. His gaze was following her around, noting every move, every word, every expression on her face. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, but she was drawing his attention and that was a pleasant change.

Apart from that look though, everything else about him remained pretty much the same. She realized soon enough that sharing a bed for sleeping purposes only didn't actually mean what she thought it meant. The days were passing by, one after another, unaltered without him taking a single step to bridge the gap between them. During the day, they didn't spend much time together; he would leave soon after breakfast to attend to the several businesses of his and she was always preoccupied with obligations regarding the forthcoming bazaar. She was spending most of her mornings running around Charleston with Eleanor to collect donations from the various salesmen in town. By the time they were done, Rhett was already waiting for them to have dinner. They would engage in pleasant conversation exchanging news and gossips and, when Eleanor retired for her nap, he was leaving again going God knows where, constantly avoiding being alone with her. Sewing, teas as well as paying and receiving calls were taking over most of the afternoon and evening. Rhett would usually accompany them. During those calls he was pleasant and talkative with everyone, paying her as much attention as required in the presence of others. His gaze was following her, but passive was the only word that could describe his overall posture.

Only after supper, when it was time for them to retire, did he treat her with anything more than polite friendliness. Sharing a bed had grew into some kind of a routine. He wouldn't invite her to his room, but he wasn't objecting to it either. Each and every night they were lying next to each other, as tensed as the very first day, occasionally talking about things that didn't matter or not talking at all. Touching was out of the question of course. The few times she attempted to do so, the freezing of his body under her touch gave her the chills. Yet all this was somehow comforting. His habit of smoking in bed was dearly missed. She favored to lie there feeling the warmth of his body, staring at the ember of his cigar glowing in the dark, listening to the repeating puffing until she could no longer keep her eyes open. They would always slip into each other's arms during the night. Waking into his embrace, the weight of his arm around her, his steady breathing in her hair was reason enough to keep her going.

* * *

Rhett wasn't the only one with an eager look in the house however. Without them being aware of it, Eleanor was watching her son and daughter-in-law closely. She knew their marriage was in the edge, even if Rhett hadn't used the exact words when he had come visiting with Bonnie that spring, two and a half years ago. What she witnessed the day of her granddaughter's funeral last spring was beyond words. The palpable hate between them had turned her blood cold. Hence, she couldn't believe in her eyes when she saw both of them standing in her doorstep a few months later. She had hoped beyond hope that they had somehow found their way back to each other, that loss and grief had brought off what love and companionship hadn't.

She was soon disappointed. They were living together like polite strangers. Or, if she wanted to be just, Rhett was treating Scarlett like one and she was putting up with it. Although he wouldn't leave her from his sight when they were in the same room, he appeared to be indifferent and disinteresting towards her, never showing anything but impersonal courtesy when she was present. And he seemed rather relieved when she wasn't. Yet there was something not persuasive about his attitude that she couldn't figure out.

Scarlett, on the other hand, was nothing like that. She was on pins and needles, when the time approached for him to be home and her face would lit up, when he made an appearance. And although she was always very pleasant and polite around guests, Eleanor could tell that she intensified her efforts around him. Her daughter-in-law was in love and she was trying really hard to catch Rhett's attention, apparently to no success. They were sharing a bedroom, that she knew. And she would catch the hopeful gleam in Scarlett's eyes every morning and see it fading to disappointment during the rest of the day. So something was going on behind their closed door, but it probably wasn't enough to stir Rhett from his passivity.

Eleanor was fond of her daughter-in law. She was charming, witty and well-mannered. She was a Robillard after all. And regardless of the obvious mess in her marriage, she was trying to be cheerful and pleasant. She was working really hard since she joined the committee and she could be very persuasive when it came to salesmen. She was shocked the first time she witnessed it. There was this particular store in King Street and Eleanor had repeatedly tried to persuade the manager to donate Christmas ornaments for the bazaar to no success. She happened to mention it to Scarlett and she insisted she would have a go. Eleanor almost choked when she saw Scarlett fluttering her eyelashes in such a flirtatious way, her voice smoother than velvet, smiling in a way that made her dimples even deeper. In any other case she would have been mortified on her behalf, scandalized even, but then she noticed the manager's face. He was gaping, dazed by Scarlett's emerald green eyes, perspiration appearing on his large forehead. They left the store carrying ten boxes with Christmas ornaments that day. They couldn't stop giggling all the way home. Rhett was waiting for them in the parlor. He noticed their light mood and inquired about it. With evident pride Eleanor described the incident to him, but he didn't seem to be amused at all. A malicious smile she had never before seen formed in his mouth, his eyes betraying feelings he had wished to conceal.

"I'm sorry I missed that," he grinned. "It must have been quite a diversion to watch a middle-aged woman trying to convince herself and others that she is still the belle of Clayton County."

The harshness of the statement came as a shock to Eleanor. She turned to look at Scarlett and her heart melted. She wasn't furious as she expected. Profound pain was written all over her face, her eyes filled with tears she was struggling to push back.

"I will go change for dinner," she mumbled, when she trusted herself to speak and she rushed out of the room.

Eleanor now turned to her son. She was so astonished she couldn't think of anything to say to him. Under her disapproving gaze he cast his eyes down. He had regretted it, it was obvious, but it was too late. It was that day she made her decision. She didn't have the slightest idea about what had happened between them in the past, but as long as they were under her roof, she would try to help them.

* * *

"Rhett, why don't you take Scarlett out for a walk today?" Eleanor said casually while they were having breakfast.

Scarlett almost chocked with her coffee and turned crimson. As for Rhett, he managed to conceal his shock more successfully. Eleanor managed to suppress a giggle and went on.

"The poor thing is here for more than two weeks now and all she had seen of Charleston are stores and old ladies. And it's such a lovely day outside, don't you agree?"

Scarlett's eyes went rapidly from her husband to her mother-in-law and back again trying to understand what was happening. Should he agree, it would be the first thing they would do together since they came here. Her heart was racing, her hands were sweaty and she didn't trust herself to hold her cup. She held her breath waiting for his response.

"I thought you two had a busy schedule today," he said indifferently.

"We are allowed a day off, aren't we?" she gave him an innocent smile. "It is my committee after all. I could use the rest as well. The last two weeks have been exhausting."

He was cornered and he knew it. Resigned he breathed a heavy sigh and he turned to Scarlett.

"Would you like that?" he asked softly.

She could do nothing but nod. Had he indeed agreed to take her out for a walk?

"Alright then. Get ready and we will leave in an hour."

* * *

Eleanor was right. It was a bright, sunny day. Or maybe it seemed like that to Scarlett, because she was walking around Charleston for hours holding her husband's arm. It was awkward at first. They were both nervous and they didn't know what to say or what to do. But after a while Rhett began to talk about the different buildings and the sights around the city center He was relaxing more and more as time passed by, stories from his childhood were soon tangled in his narration and before they knew it they were talking and laughing and having fun. It was then she made an attempt to slide her hand on his arm and to her surprise he didn't stiffen.

They were sitting on a bench in the Park. Her shoes were too tight and her feet were hurting from all the walking, so he suggested they rest for a while. Rhett was smoking lazily next to her. She sat back and closed her eyes enjoying the sun's warmth on her face.

"You and my mother seem to be getting along pretty well," he broke the silence.

"I'm very fond of your mother," she said softly unwilling to let the unmistakable sarcasm in his voice ruin her spirits.

"She certainly appreciates the help you are offering for the Committee," he went on.

She knew where this conversation was heading. Yet she refused to take the bait.

"I'm glad I can be of help," her tone unchanged.

"Since when, may I ask, do you find sewing committees entertaining? They used to bore you to death if I recall correctly" he mocked.

"They are definitely not my first option when it comes to entertainment, if you really have to know, but I rather sew than be useless. Besides, your mother needs all the help she can get. There are only two weeks left for the bazaar" she tried to remain calm.

"Why are you doing this, Scarlett?" he asked.

"Doing what exactly?"

"Being so nice and pleasant and helpful. What do you intend to gain?"

"Why do you always have to assume the worst of me, I wonder?" she answered wryly.

"My answer will have to be long term experience," he grinned.

"Well, surprising as it may be to you, I intend to gain nothing."

"And just how long do you think you can go on pretending to be a fine lady before the real you will be revealed?"

She didn't see that coming. She was angry. In fact she was furious. Bitter words lingered at the end of her tongue and she struggled not to spit them out. No. That's exactly what he expected her to do. Well, she wouldn't comply. She could do better than that.

"You just had to spoil all the fun, hadn't you?" she finally said, her voice trembling with anger, and she could see he was taken aback. "Can we spend the day together like civilized people? No, we can't. Because you have to be scornful and mocking and bitter all the time," she paused, a sudden thought crossing her mind. When she spoke again, her eyes were glowing, a mixture of anger and hurt.

"Is this why you look at me like that?" she demanded.

"Like what?" he puzzled.

"Your eyes are constantly fixed on me whatever I do. Are you waiting for me to trip up? Is that it?"

"No," he protested.

"Then why are you looking at me like that all the time?"

He wouldn't speak.

"Answer me, Rhett. Why?"

"Because I can't understand why you are doing this," he said angrily.

"Because I'm trying, Rhett," she stated matter-of-factly. "I want your mother to like me, I want your folks to like me. I'm trying to prove to everyone that I'm worthy of you, that you didn't marry lower to you," hot tears dropped down her cheek. "Everyone including you," she breathed.

She turned her head away from him and wiped the tears off her face.

"To be honest I think it's working with anyone but you," she laughed bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," he said quietly.

"No one can blame me for trying though, right?"

A child's laughter caught their attention and they both turned their eyes to look. It was a young couple with their daughter having a picnic a few yards away from them. The little girl, black curly hair surrounding a florid face, was running around laughing trying to escape her father's grip. Scarlett smiled, new tears pricking on her eyes. She must have been around Bonnie's age, maybe a bit older. She felt his hand taking hold of hers and squeezed it tightly. The man got tired of running and lay down next to his wife. The girl, momentarily left unattended, began to climb on a tree.

"Watch me, Daddy," she cried.

A cold shiver pierced her body and she felt Rhett's body stiffening next to her.

Time was suddenly frozen and everything was moving in slow motion; the child losing her grip on the branch, Rhett up on his feet running towards her, her mother's cry, her own cry, the girl falling into Rhett's arms. And then relief. Paralyzing relief. She wanted to go there to make sure the girl was alright, but she couldn't move. She watched Rhett handing the child over to her parents, accepting their gratitude. Then he turned around and walked away from everything so fast as if he was being chased by a ghost; the ghost of a black-haired little girl with blue eyes.

* * *

_Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you, thank you, thank you! :-)_


	5. Breaking point

_It looks like posting two chapters in a day was a bit confusing... So, before reading this one (it can stand on its own, but...), Chapter 4 is new as well... Thank you all for the support and the comments! __I treasure them all! _Special thanks to all the guests reviewing, since I can't thank them personally via PM! Enjoy!

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CHAPTER 5

He came back home right on time for supper.

"Sorry I'm late," he said with a drawling voice and took his seat on the table.

His unsteady posture , his puffy and bloodshot eyes were giving away his drunkenness no matter how hard he tried to hide it in front of Eleanor. She said nothing. She exchanged an alarmed look with Scarlett and as if planned in advance they engaged themselves in small talk delicately leaving him out of the conversation. He accepted this disengagement with obvious relief. He wouldn't trust himself to speak. He remained seated throughout supper, grubbing his plate distractedly and deliberately avoiding Scarlett's concerned gaze.

It was a short, awkward supper, none of the participants willing to make it last more than absolutely necessary. Eleanor made an unusually early leave claiming a sudden headache and Rhett and Scarlett headed to their room. She was about to step through the door, when he rested his strong arm on the doorway blocking her entrance. She gave him a bewildered look, refusing to accept what his gesture obviously implied.

"I'd rather be alone tonight," he put it in words, casting his eyes on the floor to evade her hurt gaze.

"So, you are shutting me out again," she said.

It wasn't a question, she wouldn't wait for an answer. She turned her back at him and slowly walked towards the guest room hoping for a change of mind. She heard his door closing instead, before she had even touched the doorknob.

She looked at the uninviting, empty bed in front of her, her eyes full of tears. This wasn't going to work. He wouldn't let it. They were running in circles. She sat down on the bench in front of her vanity and with her elbows on the knees, her face cradled in her hands she cried.

* * *

The door was suddenly swung open with a loud bang and Rhett stormed into the room. She jumped startled, her mind still foggy with sleep. What time was it? She took a quick look at the clock. Two o'clock after midnight. She turned to her husband. He was dressed, but he was tieless and his shirt was half unbuttoned and hanging out of his trousers. His hair was ruffled and she could hear his heavy breathing. Even from a distance she could still smell the whiskey in his breath. Yet he didn't look drunk any more. "_If I want to come in, no lock can keep me out."_ His words echoed in her ears, excitement rushed through her body wiping out the last remnants of sleep.

"You could have knocked," she joked suppressing a giggle. "I would have let you in, you know…"

No reaction at all… As if she hadn't spoken… Her eyes adjusted in the darkness she realized his body was shaking. She was out of bed in seconds.

"What's wrong, Rhett?" she breathed suddenly panicking.

Something terrible must have happened to put him in such a state. He didn't answer. He was just standing there, breathing heavily, shaking uncontrollably as though he stood in strong wind. His eyes had a horrifying glow, a glow she had never seen before. He looked like a trapped, frightened animal. She took a careful step forward. He didn't react. Then she took another and another until she reached his side.

"It's alright," she whispered softly and cautiously raised a hand. She wasn't sure he would let her touch him. But his eyes wouldn't leave hers, so she took a deep breath and rested it on his chest.

"It's alright," her voice reassuring.

His heart was racing, his gasping grew harder as he struggled for air. Her other hand rested on his still face. It was moist. Whether sweat or tears, she couldn't tell. He didn't even blink. He was just staring at her, his eyes enormous, darkness deeper than she ever thought possible. It seemed like her touch drew all the energy from his body and all of a sudden he collapsed on his knees. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his face buried in her nightgown pulling her to him. Before she could even realize what was happening, the most agonizing moan she had ever heard came out from the back of his throat.

"I killed her," he groaned as though he was experiencing excruciating pain. "I killed her."

"No," she cried. "No, you didn't."

She lowered her body to level his tormented eyes. In their depths fear, pain, regret and even more pain were randomly replacing on another with dazing speed over and over again.

"I killed her. You told me so, I killed her," he groaned once more.

It was not an accusation. It was a fact. Stating the plain truth. Guilt overwhelmed her, tears pricked on her eyes. The once pride man was now broken in front of her. He was damaged, more severely than she had imagined, and she had her share to his damaging. She had to make it right. Yet, she had no idea how to fix this, how to fix him. She took his head between her palms and gently pulled him towards her. He grasped from her thin body like a drowning man would grasp from anything in his reach.

"I know I did and I'm sorry," she breathed relentlessly caressing his hair. "I didn't mean it, Rhett. I swear I didn't mean it. I was in pain. I couldn't bear it, the cruelty of it. I had to rationalize it somehow. And I needed someone to blame. But I didn't mean it. And I regret the very moment I said it. I'm so sorry."

He tried to speak, but his voice chocked. One sob and then another raked through his body and before long he was weeping, his head buried in her embrace, finally allowing himself to grieve. She wrapped her arms around his broad back, clasping him to her tightly, tears endlessly dropping down her cheeks, until all the sorrow was drained and the shaking seized. Without a word she pulled him up gently and she took him to bed, his body complying passively. She made a move towards the door, but his hand grasped hers to stop her, all the blankness in his eyes gone, agonizing fear returning.

"I won't go anywhere," she said softly. "Let me close the door."

He let go of her hand, his gaze following her every move. She lay next to him and took him in her arms once more. He rested his head on her chest, his hands holding her firmly. They remained silent for a long time.

"How long?" she eventually inquired.

"How long what?" he puzzled.

"The nightmares… How long?"

He couldn't hide from her. She couldn't miss the signs. She had grown too accustomed to them; the sweating, the shaking, the gasping, the paralyzing fear. She had found herself awaken like that one too many times. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Since the day she died," he admitted.

"What are they about?"

"Nothing specific," he muttered. "Random images, words, sounds, smells."

"About her?" she whispered.

"Mostly; her face, her eyes, her voice, her laughter."

"What wakes you up?" she hesitated.

He shuddered. "The sound of splintering wood," his voice was hoarse.

She clasped him on her. She would never forget that sound for as long as she lived.

"They had stopped, you know," he said.

She knew.

"The very first night in Charleston," he simply confirmed.

"Mine too," she whispered.

More silence.

"Do you believe me?" she asked hesitantly. "That I didn't mean it?"

"I know you didn't," she heard him say and she heaved a sigh of relief.

"It was not what you said that hurt the most," he went on. "It was the truth in it… I saw it in everyone's eyes, but being put in words and by you…" he paused.

"It wasn't your fault, Rhett. There was nothing you could have done to stop her. None of us could," she reassured him.

"I could have not taught her how to jump," he stated flatly. "You told me not to, but I didn't listen. You knew better. I should have let you handle it. You would have done better."

"No, I wouldn't," she confined. "She would have talked me down to it eventually. She was so stubborn when she had her mind fixed on something. And I couldn't say no to her either."

She could feel his hesitance, yet she waited.

"Thank you," he finally muttered.

He buried his face deeper into her chest.

"I can't bear it alone anymore, Scarlett," he confessed wearily, his voice muffled. "I thought I could, but I can't. I need you," he admitted defeat.

"I'm here now," she said softly, her mouth on his head. "We will bear it together."

"Will we ever?" he wondered.

"Yes, we will," the strong confidence in her voice made him smile.

He lifted his head to look at her. He raised his hand and caressed her cheek gently. His eyes rested on her beautiful lips. Reluctantly he leaned forward. Her heart stopped. She held her breath for fear the slightest sound would make him regret it. But he didn't His lips found hers and kissed them tenderly. She let a soft moan. It'd been so long… She had almost forgotten the feeling, the smoothness, the taste. She run her fingers through his thick hair to keep him there. She prayed it would never end. But then he pulled away. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, his face sank into her hair.

"You were never alone in this, you know," she said.

"Wasn't I?"he grinned.

"No, you weren't. Don't assume I am strong just because I appear to be, Rhett, for I'm not," she declared. "I lost her too. I miss her too," her voice broke.

"I know," his hold tightened.

"I needed you then and I need you now. As much as you need me."

He kissed her hair in empathetic response.

A certain amount of healing took place that night, some of the poison drained from wounds far from old. Lying on each other's arms the same thought crossed their mind; they were tired of living in remnants. They had to try to move forward leaving the past behind. They slept peacefully that night after a very long time, their bodies tangled in a tight embrace. It was the beginning of a long, painful road, a road they were now both willing to take.

* * *

_Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you, thank you, thank you!_


	6. The Bazaar

_It took me a long time, I know... I don't know why, but I struggled to finish this chapter! Anyway, here it is! Mature content disclaimer! If you feel I should change the rating to M, please tell me and I will do so immediately! _

_Many thanks to all the viewers and the reviewers! Special thanks to the guests and Firth's Darcy who I can't thank personally via PM. Keep making my day brighter for this chapter as well!_

_A huge thanks to Anna for all the help and the encouragement during my minor writer's block! :-)_

_PS: About the South Carolina Society Hall I used to host the bazaar! It is an actual historical building in Charleston and according to a brief research it used to hold Balls back the 1870's. Still I can't be sure! If anyone knows better, I would appreciate the feedback!_

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CHAPTER 6

"Ladies, as much as I enjoy your company, I'm afraid I have to make a leave," he smiled and after taking another sip of his coffee he stood up.

To Eleanor's surprise Rhett appeared to be significantly calmer and much more relaxed around his wife this particular morning than any other morning. As if the previous day's events had never happened. What on earth was happening into her son's head, she wondered.

"I will see you both at dinner. Have a lovely day," he said, but as he turned around, he paused and hesitated for a moment. Then he leaned over and placed a soft kiss at the tip of his wife's lips, his hand caressing her cheek. He exited the room leaving an utterly shocked and crimson Scarlett behind. She turned her eyes to Eleanor who was smiling broadly at her.

"Well, darling, let's go through today's schedule, shall we?" she eventually broke the uneasy silence.

* * *

The two following weeks passed by in blistering speed. The preparations for the bazaar were reaching a peak and however hard they all tried to have everything covered, each day something new would come up to burden their already heavy schedule. At the beginning of the second week they were done with the handcrafts and they have collected as many donations as they could. It was time to deal with the setting of the bazaar. Given her hard-earned abilities from running a store Scarlett requested to undertake this task. The event was taking place to the South Carolina Society Hall, a magnificent two-storey building of Adamesque style downtown. The bazaar would be staged at the ground floor and the Ball would take place at the ballroom on the second floor. She visited the place and then carefully designed a plan up to the minor detail; from the where and how the stands should be placed to the exact position of each and every piece of ware on each stand. She also came with suggestions about the proper pricing. She presented her ideas to the Committee and she astounded everyone with her excellent business spirit. They unanimously decided that she earned the right to be in charge of the project. And she devoted to it passionately and wholeheartedly. Everything should be perfect. They simply must. In her mind this was her one and only chance to prove herself; to Charleston's society, to Eleanor and most importantly to Rhett. Deep inside, however, she knew it was merely Rhett's opinion she cared about; she was doing it for him.

After that night, things were going much better between them. He was willing to spend more time with her and he was more like himself when she was around. As a result a couple of significant changes took place over the next few weeks. Instead of leaving the house after supper he was taking her for long walks around the city. Once or twice per week he would take her out for supper. Even the time they spent in their bedroom lying in each other's arms seemed to matter more day after day. And throughout the week before the bazaar, while she was spending most of the day in the Hall overseeing the work in progress so busy she sometimes forgot to eat, he would come to pick her up with the carriage when the time for supper approached. The joy for the interest he was taking in her was struggling with disappointment; not once did he come inside to see what she was doing with the place nor did he ask her anything about it. He was simply waiting outside to accompany her back home.

She relished the hours she spent with him, however, and looked forward to them. They had spent years in indifferent silence, but during those weeks they slowly began to open up and talk to each other again, laugh with the same jokes. The long discussions they used to have early on their marriage were back. He had always been an excellent story-teller; he never seemed run out of stories and she just loved to listen to them. He was the only man who could make her laugh to tears. This wasn't the only reason though. She was now regarding them as a window to his soul, something she hadn't realized before. Piece by piece she was collecting the information and putting it in place trying to learn and understand the complicated man who was her husband.

* * *

The Butler's carriage stopped in front of the South Carolina Society Hall at seven o'clock. Rhett stepped out of it, as handsome as ever in his formal evening tuxedo, and offered his hand to his mother and his wife. Scarlett was still in mourning, so any color other than black was out of the question. Still she unintentionally managed to make quite an entrance. Her dress was in complete contrast with her alabaster skin making her remarkable, emerald eyes to stand out and her full lips to appear even redder. Her hair was pulled up and arranged in a large, elegant chignon at the crown of her head exposing her long neck in its full length. The only pieces of jewellery on her was her wedding ring and her engagement ring, which she refused to take off. As they entered the Hall, she noticed the admiring looks from the gentlemen and several resentful looks from the ladies. Yet she didn't care. This was their first public appearance since they arrived in Charleston and she was glowing at Rhett's side, her gloved hand resting on his arm.

She spent most of the first couple of hours at the bazaar helping in the stands in any way she could. She made sure that the products were replenished or replaced with others when sold out, she assisted at the cash tills and she used her charm to persuade the reluctant gentlemen to contribute to a noble cause. When she saw her husband approaching, she knew it was time for her to join their table.

They climbed the stairs and entered the marvelously decorated ballroom. They were sharing a table with the ladies of the Committee and their husbands. Rhett helped her take her seat next to Eleanor. Before he positioned himself next to her he leaned to her ear, his breath caressed her skin.

"You are the only woman I know who can make such an impression even when dressed in black."

A straight forward compliment coming from him. That she didn't expect. Her heart swelled with happiness, heat rose to her cheeks. He offered her a glass of champagne and she keenly took it in her hands. She quaffed a generous sip in an attempt to ease her nervousness.

The rest of the evening run smoothly. Small talk with Eleanor and the other ladies occasionally interrupted by various acquaintances who wanted to congratulate her for her involvement in the Committee. She could then feel Rhett's eyes fixed on her, but refused to return his gaze. When the dancing began, Rhett excused himself and went to join the gentlemen at the bar for whiskey and cigars. She didn't know what was more disappointing; that she couldn't dance or that he left her side. She tried to turn her attention back to the talk at her table, but soon enough her eyes were scanning the room to locate his position. Each and every time she did so though, the same pleasant surprise was waiting for her; he was staring back at her.

* * *

She probably had one too many glasses of champagne for she was feeling a little dizzy. She needed fresh air.

"If you'll excuse me," she said to Eleanor and she took a leave.

She walked through the ballroom, down the stairs and then out in the garden. It was cold outside, but the chill was refreshing, it cleared her mind a bit. She wandered around until she found a bench.

She was lost in her thoughts, when she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't need to turn around. She knew it was Rhett.

"There you are," his voice warm. "I've been looking for you."

He sat next to her. He put his hand on her chin and made her look at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

She nodded with a faint smile. He caressed her cheek gently and her eyes shut to savour the feeling. They sat next to each other in silence.

"This was a success," she stated.

"Yes," he agreed. "And it was partly thanks to you," he startled her.

She could feel her cheeks flushing.

"I didn't do anything much," she protested timidly.

"Don't play modest with me, Scarlett. Half through the evening I lost count of the compliments I received for you. Everyone acknowledges your contribution. So do I."

"You do?" she puzzled.

"Yes. What you did with the bazaar was magnificent. Not that I expected anything less from you. I've always admired your spirit in business."

Another compliment. The world was turning upside down tonight.

"I am rather amazed though," he went on. "Knowing you it was probably one of the very few unselfish things you've ever done."

She turned her gaze and looked straight into his eyes suspiciously. He gave her an earnest, kind smile. He was teasing her, he wasn't mocking her. She laughed softly relieved.

"I did it for you," she confessed quietly.

"I know," he could still read her like an open book.

They heard a well-known waltz from a distance. Recognizing it she smiled wistfully. As if he read her mind, Rhett was up on his feet offering his hand.

"Will you dance with me, Scarlett?" he asked.

Her heartbeat accelerated so quickly it took her breath away. She grasped his hand and before she knew it, she was in his arms and they were waltzing around the garden. He was holding her tightly on him and she was thankful. Their proximity made her feel weak. She wouldn't trust her knees to hold her if he didn't.

"We've danced this song before," she muttered shyly.

He nodded, his face suddenly serious, his eyes never leaving hers. Surprise mixed with sincere pleasure was her reaction.

"I wouldn't forget the very first waltz we danced together, Scarlett," he answered her unspoken question. "I'm surprised _you_ remembered. I didn't think you'd cherish such a memory."

"You were never just another indifferent man for me, Rhett. You had this strong effect on me since the first day I met you. I was attracted to you both physically and mentally. It just took me too long to realize it was much more than fondness."

The music stopped and so did they. Yet he held her close, their bodies touching, his eyes searching her face eagerly. She rested her gaze on his mouth, her own lips parted unconsciously inviting him to kiss them. When she raised her eyes to his again, hers were burning with desire. No misread signals there. He leaned forward, his warm breath sent shivers across her body. It was she who bridged the distance between them. Her mouth met his and she kissed him timidly at first, more and more passionately when she felt him responding. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she deepened their kiss with growing hunger. His hands pulled her even closer, then climbed up and caressed the skin on the back of her neck. She quivered. Her heart was hammering in her chest. The familiar feeling of helplessness and total abandonment overwhelmed her. She couldn't resist him, she was at his mercy. He unexpectedly pulled just a few inches away from her and she forced herself to open her eyes disenchanted. Two burning black coals were staring at her, his mustache tickled her swollen lips as he talked.

"It's time to go," his voice full of promise.

She nodded, her mind completely blurred. He took her by the hand and she just followed him back into the building and through the hall. She tried to compose herself, appear casual and at ease to the people looking at her, but it was too hard. Her eyes were fixed on Rhett dazed by the prospect of him kissing her, touching her again after so long. She couldn't concentrate on anything else. She was smiling absent-mindedly to no one in particular, the words slipping off her mind before she had a chance to utter them. Mercifully Rhett did all the talking; he made excuses about their sudden departure and said their quick goodnights and within minutes they were with Eleanor on the carriage heading back to the mansion. He wouldn't leave her hand; he was holding it tightly, his thumb endlessly caressing it. God, he knew how to make her suffer. If only he would stop... If only he wouldn't .. The tension emerging from their bodies was too intense to go unnoticed by Eleanor. Yet it was not an uneasy tension. Something happened in the garden, she was certain, but she didn't ask. Her concerned looks to Scarlett caught Rhett's attention and he immediately engaged his mother in small talk regarding the bazaar. They arrived home and Rhett helped them both out of the carriage. Eleanor headed for the house, but he held Scarlett back. She looked at him bewildered.

"You are not coming in?" she whispered trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.

"I'll be back in an hour," he reassured her. "Wait for me, will you?" he asked running his finger over her mouth.

She nodded. He pulled her in his arms abruptly and kissed her in a hard, demanding way.

"Just wait for me," he said and disappeared into the darkness.

She was climbing up the stairs, when she heard the gallop of his horse.

Back in their bedroom her maid helped her undress. She put on her nightgown and began to brush her hair. Her hands were trembling, her anticipation growing minute by minute. Why did he have to leave? Where was he heading? She would never understand this man as long as she lived. She let out a resigned sigh.

* * *

Rhett was back at the house as quickly as possible. He climbed the stairs two at a time and carefully opened the door to their bedroom. He sucked in his breath, his eyes taking in the beauty of the woman in front of him. She was lying on the bed over the covers. She had fallen asleep, her long hair spread on the pillow. He took of his evening jacket and his vest and lay next to her gently putting his arms around her thin figure. She made a soft sound and cuddled in his embrace. He softly kissed her forehead, her closed eyes, her cheeks, her bare neck. She stirred.

"You are back," she murmured.

His lips kissed hers tenderly again and again until she was fully awaken kissing him back. His kiss deepened, his hands stroking her back more and more fiercely.

"Where did you go?" she muttered.

"Not now, Scarlett," he hummed, his mouth on hers.

"Where did you go?" she asked again suddenly alert.

He tried to kiss her again, but she turned her cheek to him. He sighed. He would have to tell her eventually, he had just hoped it would be later in the night, when under his caresses she would be more willing to accept it. But she was looking at him in that stubborn way of hers and he knew she wouldn't let go. He had to tell her now.

"Well," he said softly, his fingers caressing her face. "I thought it would be better if..." he hesitated.

"If?" she insisted.

"If we stayed clear of a pregnancy... For now at least..."

It was more than obvious that she didn't see that coming, but it was too late. After the initial confused startling her eyes grew larger and all color was drained from her face. The magic was gone. That was definitely not how he had imagined this night.

_There are ways not to have children. He knew about them and never said anything. He doesn't want children anymore. _One revelation was leading to another in her head, making her temples hammering violently. Shock, anger, hurt were crowding in her. She couldn't breathe.

"You mean to tell me there are ways..." she paused. "You don't want... How..."

"I thought you knew," he puzzled.

"How on earth could I have known?" she said loudly.

"I thought that Mamie Bart..."

She pushed him away her eyes flushing with anger.

"Do you think I was low enough to have discussed our marital relations with a woman like her?" she hissed.

"You were low enough to discuss how to kill a baby with her, if I recall correctly," he snapped. "It seemed only natural that you would have discussed how to prevent one from happening as well."

"You are such a cad for bringing this up. That was different and you know it. How can you even compare the two situations? I was desperate, I was angry. I didn't want any more children. Why else would I have asked you to sleep in separate rooms?"

His face turned hard, his eyes burning with rage.

"Is this an actual question?" he asked quietly.

She swallowed hard. Of course he would go down that way to corner her and come out on top.

"It was partly because of him and partly because I didn't know there was another way," she finally said.

"Is that so?" he grinned. "It didn't sound like that back then. You looked too impatient to get rid of me and my... ardors and spend your nights dreaming of Ashley."

"Another insightful conclusion of yours, I guess," she sneered. "No, I didn't want to get rid of you. I regretted asking you the very moment I did. But I just couldn't take it back. I didn't dare. You were making everything so difficult for me back then."

He said nothing, once again taken aback by her honesty. And the truth in her words. She got out of bed and headed to the window.

"And now, after all these years of regretting it and accusing myself for the downfall of our marriage, I learn that my husband knew better and yet he didn't say anything," she said bitterly. "He chose to leave the bedroom without a single protest. And instead of fighting for his wife he preferred to sleep with other women. What does that say about him?" her voice faded.

She heard him approaching. He was standing behind her, but she refused to turn and look at him. She couldn't.

"I had spent years watching you chasing after him. I knew you loved him when I married you. Can you blame me for my choice?" he asked wearily.

"You didn't even try to make me change my mind," her voice was trembling, sobs fighting their way out. "Why? Why didn't you?"

"You don't have the slightest idea how much it hurt to hear you say it to me, do you? Throwing me out of my bed, out of my room was a blow enough for my pride, Scarlett. Even if I had suggested the alternatives, do you think I could take another one, had you rejected my proposal?" he gently turned her body around and forced her to look at him. "I didn't believe a change of mind was possible," he stressed each and every word.

"Well, you were wrong," she breathed, the hot tears pricking in her eyes were now dropping down her cheeks.

"I can see that now. I'm sorry," he admitted.

"I'm sorry too," she sobbed.

He took her shaking body in his arms and held her close.

"How did our lives end up to be such a mess?" she mumbled between sobs. "Our marriage could have been so different if only..."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know," he sighed.

"You should have forced yourself to me. It worked when you did."

"Good God, Scarlett," he exclaimed. "I'm not proud of that night. Forcing myself to you was not what I dreamed of when I married you. I wanted you to come to me on your own free will."

She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes.

"I wanted you that night, Rhett. As much as you wanted me. You didn't force me to do anything. Eventually, I did come to you on my own free will," she paused. "Just as I'm coming to you tonight," she whispered and under his intense gaze her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

A faint smile appeared on his mouth. His hands cupped her face, his fingers wiped away the tears. Her emerald eyes were glowing with expectation. He found her lips already parted to receive him, her tongue caressed his and he let out a soft moan. He was not used to her willingness, it was a constant surprise. His hands caressed her neck, slipped down to her shoulders and stripped her nightgown off. She let it slide down her body and lay in a pool around her feet. His eyes wandered hungrily about her nudity, his fingers gently following the same path; from her face down to her neck and shoulders, between her breasts, down to her middle and further down. She felt her skin awakening from deep sleep. As if mesmerized she raised her hands and got to unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers. She rested her palms on his bare chest, felt his heart racing as frantically as her own. He lifted her up in his arms and lay her on the bed. He leaned over her and they kissed again. Her tongue dived impatiently in his mouth, her fingers run through his thick hair holding his head on her. His lips slowly traveled down to her neck and he lingered there for a bit breathing in her smell. He could see her skin shivering under his touch, her breath close to his ear was heavy and erratic. His hands were endlessly caressing her bare flesh and his lips began to shower her with soft kisses. Her heart stopped when his hands cupped her breasts and she felt his mouth on them. He licked her nipples teasingly. A small voice escaped her lips and he smiled. Since she was coming to him willingly, he had to make it worth it. He kissed his way down to her belly and then even lower. He parted her legs and she raised her head astonished, but before she had a chance to speak his lips kissed her thighs and she dropped her head on the pillow again with a heavy sigh. She gasped for air the moment she felt his tongue between her legs. She moaned loudly. What was he doing to her? She was dizzy, she couldn't breathe. His mouth was driving her crazy, his tongue was paralyzing her. She grabbed his hands so forcefully she feared she would break his fingers. Something strange was happening to her, something she had never felt before; his touch was building a fire inside her, growing stronger and stronger.

"Please, Rhett," she begged. "Please…"

He didn't comply. Only when he heard her crying out from relief and he saw her body arching and then relaxing, did he slowly travel back up towards her lips. A smile of satisfaction was graven on her lips. He took her face in his hands.

"Open your eyes and look at me, Scarlett," he demanded softly.

She did so very slowly as if with great effort, their color the darkest shade of green he had ever seen. Yearning, desire, surrender everything he was looking for was right there in their depths. He drove himself leisurely inside her and she shut her eyes again moaning with pleasure.

"Open your eyes, damn it," he groaned and she obeyed.

He thrust into her again reveling on her face twisted with lust. Her hands grasped his shoulders, her nails stacked into his flesh and she arched to meet him, to stay awash with him. Her trembling mouth sought his. She bit his lips, his neck, his shoulders. And while he was permeating her more and more passionately, the same heavenly overwhelming feeling returned burning away her insides. She groaned again and again and she lost touch with reality. And then with a deep moan he stopped abruptly. He lay on top of her, unwilling to part with her body, his ruffled head resting on her bosom, his heavy breathing burning her skin, listening to her frantic heartbeat. She wrapped her arms and legs around him caressing his sweaty back until she felt him hardening again and his lips hungrily claimed hers once more.

They made love that night for the first time after what seemed like ages ago. And then they did so again and again and again, until it was dawn. Only then, exhausted beyond words, did they surrender to sleep.

* * *

_This is it... Quick note just to make it clear! They did use contraception... I just couldn't find an effective way to embody it into the story without sounding too tacky..._

_Please review and tell me what you think! :-)_


	7. No more lies

_Still on Easter break, thus more time for writing... :)))_

_Once again, thank you all for viewing and reviewing! As always, you make my day brighter! _

_This is for Ondine who wondered if R&S will discuss more aspects of their history together... :)_

* * *

CHAPTER 7

The bazaar's undeniable success was the main topic of discussion across the city the next morning. The Committee planed to give the raised money away to the suffering families of Charleston for Christmas. Since the profits exceeded every expectation, a lot of families would spend a far better Christmas than imagined. Inevitably the discussions evolved around Eleanor's enigmatic daughter-in-law. The ladies couldn't help but comment on her altruistic devotion to the Committee and the hard work she did with the bazaar. Not only did she organize and supervise the whole thing. Last night, instead of joining her husband and her mother-in-law in their table, she chose to spend so much time helping with the sales and making sure everything was going according to plan. In any other occasion Scarlett would probably be the center of negative criticism. The ladies knew deep inside that it was censurable for any proper lady to behold such business skills. They had to admit though that if it wasn't for these skills, the bazaar would have been far less profitable, so they went for the old saying; the end justifies the means.

It was only a month ago that Charleston was shaken by the news of the dissolute son's return. It came as a greater shock that he brought his wife along. Gossips about her had reached Charleston since that spring, when Rhett had come visiting with their daughter. They already knew that she was a Robilliard by blood and she was Pauline's and Eulalie's niece. What they didn't know and pulled a few strings in Atlanta to find out, was that she was twice a widow and she was running two successful businesses on her own. The fact that she didn't accompany her husband and their daughter because of these activities raised even more suspicions about her person. What kind of a wife and a mother would do that? And what kind of a husband would allow it in the first place? Certain well wishers suggested that their marriage was over and they were staying together for the shake of the child. Other venomous tongues went as far as to say that Rhett Butler finally got what he deserved for his past sins. However, all of them hushed when they learnt about Bonnie's death.

When the odd couple arrived in Charleston five months after the tragedy, it goes without saying that they couldn't wait to meet Scarlett. Eleanor presented her daughter-in-law to the Committee the very next day of her arrival. And she was certainly not what they had expected to see. It was obvious that she must have been a belle; she was still remarkably beautiful. But the thin, black dressed woman in front of them was nothing like the arrogant and self centered woman they had in mind. On the contrary, she was modest, polite and properly mannered. And she was definitely more attached to her husband than he seemed to be. They treated her cautiously at first. Soon though they came to appreciate her willingness to be of help and the sharpness of her mind. Her contribution to the bazaar's success turned their appreciation into respect. Their doors were now officially open for her.

As a result, invitations for tea began to arrive the very next day of the event by families whose names Scarlett hadn't even heard before. Rhett was inevitably invited as well. The irony of the situation was not lost to him. He knew that before that he was received solely out of courtesy for his mother. Now he was received because of his wife as well. Who would have thought that Scarlett was to play such a part to the slow process of reconciliation with his people. He couldn't help but laugh out loud with this ascertainment.

The weeks after the bazaar were as full as ever for Scarlett and she was satisfied with herself. What really mattered though was that those full days were followed by blissfully exhausting nights in the arms of her husband; sleepless, wondrous nights, each bringing more desire and more pleasure than the previous one. Years and years of suppressed passion unleashed, they were now savoring each other trying to make up for all the lost opportunities.

* * *

But the burning issue remained unaddressed. Whenever she tried to bring it up, his lips would hush her. He was constantly getting around it, yet she wanted an answer.

"We need to talk," she muttered, his breath on her skin making her week.

Holding her leisurely in his arms he was placing soft kisses across her bare neck.

"Mmmmm…" he seemed too preoccupied with the back of her ear to answer.

"Rhett, please," she moaned. "We need to talk."

"Talking is over estimated, my pet. I can think of a numerous much more pleasant ways to use our mouths," he whispered and his tongue licked her ear lobe sending sweet shivers across her body.

"You can't avoid it forever," she pressed on weakly.

He let a somewhat irritated sigh and lay back on his pillow.

"Fine," he consented. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Children," she hesitated.

"What about them?" he pretended not to see where the conversation was heading.

"If I understand correctly, you don't want any," she stated.

"So?"

"Is it something you get to decide on your own?"

"Of course not," he grinned. "That's solely your privilege."

She swallowed uncomfortably.

"At least I offered you my reasons. Even if you didn't like them."

"I thought mine were obvious."

"Many things were supposed to be obvious in the past and we both know where it took us."

"Fair point well made, my dear," he laughed at her accurate remark.

She turned to him and rested her head on her bent arm.

"You don't want children ever?"

"Ever…" he winced. "That's a strong word, Scarlett."

"For how long then?"

"Does it have to be time framed? I don't want to plan ahead. I don't want to think about the future. I just want to live the present."

"But don't you want us to have a family again?"

"_Us_ is far too complicated as it is, don't you think?" he took a wisp of her hair and began to twine it around his finger. "Why rush things? Let's take one step at a time and see where it leads."

"So you are not opposed to it, you just don't want it yet," she tried to summarize.

"You won't let go, will you?" irritation building up in his voice.

"I need to know, that's all," she said coyly.

"What else do you want me to say? I don't know how I'll feel about it tomorrow. I only know how I feel about it _now_. And _now_ I don't want children."

She wouldn't leave his gaze and he so desperately wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to talk about it.

"You aren't ready," it wasn't a question.

"No, I'm not ready," he snapped. "And if I must be honest, I am not sure I will ever be. What is the matter with you anyway? I thought this…arrangement was convenient for both of us. Since when do you want children so much?"

Her face went deadly pale in a blink. Her eyes flashed menacingly.

"There was one baby I wanted," she said through trembling lips.

His face twitched with regret, but under her glower immediately hardened with anger.

"I apologize. You had stressed how much you didn't want my babies so many times that this particular detail must have slipped my mind," he sneered.

So this was how he was going to play it? Well, she knew that game too. He had taught it to her.

"I will gladly refresh your memory then," she scowled. "I can even provide you with the exact date and time of the day you wished for a miscarriage and your wish came true."

His face turned as hard as stone.

"Don't go down that road," he warned her.

"Why not? That spring was probably one of the highlights of our marriage; you running away with Bonnie, me being left heart sick behind. It was an absolute delight."

"Do I need to remind you of the reason?" he grinned. "Your obsession with him didn't leave me with many alternatives."

"Three months, Rhett? Three whole months without a single word? Not even about our daughter?"

"I had to get away from you. It was either that or break his neck and yours."

"You had to get away from our problems, because you were too coward to face them."

His eyes flared with rage.

"Was Ashley Wilkes a problem _I _had to solve?" he wondered sarcastically.

"Haven't you realized yet that by then he was the least of our problems?"

"Is that so?"

"You know fine what I talk, Rhett. It's funny though," she laughed mockingly. "You became as obsessed with him as I used to be. _That _ night wiped out any traces left of it for me. Apparently it didn't do as much for you. When Dr. Meade told me I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. A baby was the outcome of that night and I wanted it so badly _precisely_ because it was your baby."

"Yet you didn't write it to me."

"I didn't know where you were," she protested.

"Would you, had you known?" he challenged her spitefully.

"No, I wouldn't," she snapped. "You didn't give a damn whether I was dead or alive. You didn't deserve to know. Your reaction when I told you proved me right. You even had the nerve to ask me who the father of our baby was, for God shake!"

"You have this absolutely maddening talent for pulling out the worst in me. I was less than five minutes back in the house and I was furious with you already. I wanted to hurt you."

"Hurt me for what? For making me fall in love with you? I thought that's what you wanted," she exclaimed.

"I didn't know."

"You didn't care enough to look," she said bitterly. "I was happy to see you. I've missed you more than I thought possible. But it was easier to be your usual jeering self, wasn't it? So you decided to break me instead. Well, it worked. You broke me, both in spirit and body. And you weren't even there. I had to go through it alone."

It had been more than two years, but the memory was still fresh; pain, fear, hope, disappointment, resign, loneliness, darkness.

"You didn't call for me," he said through clenched teeth.

"Did I have to? It was _your_ baby I lost on that bed. You ought to be there. But you were probably too busy bedding your whore," she spat out.

He grabbed her hands fiercely, his jaw tightened in an attempt to hold his anger back.

"Stop it," he growled.

"Am I pushing it, darling?" she kept provoking him, sarcasm dripping in every word. "Is the truth too much for you?"

His grasp tautened even more.

"Stop it, damn you."

"Why didn't you come?" she demanded.

"I was waiting for you to call me, but you didn't," he said. "You didn't want me there."

"I was sick, Rhett. I was in pain and I needed you. But you made a choice. You chose not to be there. Where were you?" she insisted.

"You didn't want me there."

"Where were you?" she cried.

"I was in my room blindly drunk terrified at the thought I might lose you too," he shouted back.

"Why? What else did you...?" she set to ask, but the pain in his eyes already gave her the answer. The revelation took her breath away. She felt her anger evaporating.

"You… You wanted the baby?" she whispered.

"Of course I wanted the baby, you fool," he groaned.

"You showed you didn't," she breathed.

"You said you didn't. Apparently we both lied," he released her hands with a heavy sigh.

The wrath protecting her heart now wasted, she began to shiver, hot tears endlessly dropping down her face.

"We lost our baby over lies," she mumbled. "As if hurting each other wasn't enough."

His watery eyes were burning, he didn't dare to blink. He made an attempt to speak, but his throat was dry. He nodded instead.

"You are right. You are not ready. None of us is," she declared. "Why bring a child into this marriage, when there is still so much bitterness and anger?" her voice heavy with pain.

She turned her back at him, she huddled up and buried her face in the pillow, her shuddering body the only thing giving away an otherwise soundless sobbing. He raised a hand and hesitantly rested it on her shoulder.

"No," she threw it off her.

He came nearer. She moved further away. He wrapped his arm around her waist. She protested again, but he didn't let go. His grip grew firmer and firmer until all resistance relented. He pulled her to him, her back to his chest, and held her tight fitting his body with hers. He was breathing heavily and his arms around her were shaking. And when he buried his face in her neck, it was wet. After what seemed like ages, the shivering seized and her breath was calm and regular again.

"I nearly hated you," she said almost inaudibly.

"Nearly?" he grinned. "I hated myself completely for what happened to you."

"I couldn't make it last, Rhett. I tried, but I couldn't. Neither when you were gone nor when you weren't there for me. Somehow you were making it impossible for me to hate you. And I used to be so angry with you all the time, because of that."

"This is a very precise description of how I was feeling for twelve years," he laughed hoarsely.

"Is this how love is supposed to be? Does it have to hurt that much?" she wondered.

"I wouldn't know. I never loved another woman."

"Do you still love me?" she whispered.

He couldn't give her an answer. He didn't have one.

"Never mind," she sighed breaking the tense silence.

"One step at a time, Scarlett," it was a pleading.

"One step at a time," she went along. "Promise me something though."

"What?"

"We made each other suffer too much in the past. I can't bear this to happen again."

"Neither do I," he admitted.

"No more lies then, Rhett. Promise me."

"No more lies," he promised.

* * *

_Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you, thank you, thank you! :))))_


	8. The Butler family

_Thank you all for viewing and reviewing! I really appreciate your constant support and I highly value all your comments!_

_New arrivals in this chapter! Tell me what you think about them... Mature content warning towards the end of it! ;) _

_This is for Anna... She knows why! I can't thank you enough! :)))_

* * *

CHAPTER 8

While they were having supper, they heard the front door open.

"Surprise, surprise! Anybody home?" a woman's voice cried joyfully.

"Dear God," Eleanor exclaimed and jumped off her chair.

A young woman and a man entered the parlor.

"Good evening," they said in unison.

"Well, well, look who are back," Rhett said and stood up to greet them.

"Darlings, darlings, welcome home," Eleanor was already hugging the woman tightly. "Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"

"Because we wanted it to be a surprise," the woman laughed.

Rhett exchanged a handshake with the man.

"Welcome home."

Eleanor turned to the man.

"Come here, Missy," Rhett said teasingly and lifted her up in his arms.

Scarlett didn't need to hear their names to find out who the new comers were. She already knew that in front of her stood the entire Butler family; Rhett's brother and sister were back from Europe.

When the greetings were over, they all turned to Scarlett.

"Rosemary, Ross, may I present to you my wife, Scarlett," Rhett said.

Two pairs of dark eyes rested on her, each examining her from top to toe before making a move towards her. Rosemary was the first to reach her side. She placed a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, Scarlett," she said with a smile.

It was nothing unwelcoming about this greeting, but Scarlett felt a growing uneasiness under the penetrating gaze of her sister-in-law. Her smile was kind, but it wasn't reaching her eyes.

Ross was warmer. He took her raised hand on his and brought it to his lips.

"Charmed, my lady," he smiled, a smile so like Rhett's.

She smiled back more heartily.

"Tell us everything about your trips," Eleanor requested, when they all retrieved their seats at the table. "The last time you wrote you were in Paris."

"Yes! Oh, Rhett! You were so right," Rosemary said. "It's such a magnificent city! I just couldn't get enough of it. And the Louvre…" she sighed. "I spent at least four mornings in there."

"Which nearly drove me to distraction," Ross commented and they all laughed.

The conversation wandered around art and soon enough Scarlett found it impossible to follow; too many names, all of them unknown to her. So she lay back on the couch and she busied herself by observing Rhett's siblings.

Rosemary must have been around her age, maybe a bit younger. She looked like Rhett; the colors, the expressions, the features. But although these features were as handsome as ever on Rhett, they didn't flatter her sister-in-law that much. Her hair was black and her skin was as tanned as her brother's. They also shared the full lips and the dark eyes, but Rosemary's were dark brown, like chocolate. Scarlett could make out a fine, well made figure under that dress and she did possess her mother's pleasant voice and gratefulness, but in Rosemary it was more of a learned skill than a natural gift. She also appeared to be witty and with a sense of humor and she definitely looked as self assured as her brother. Had she paid more attention to fashion, Scarlett concluded in her mind, she could have been a charming woman in her own way. But she could tell by the dull, old fashioned, grey dress and by the way her hair were made that Rosemary didn't pay the least attention to her appearance. No wonder she was still without a husband.

Ross was a different story. He too was very much like his brother, dark, tall and handsome, but surely not as well build as Rhett was. He was very well dressed and elegant, maybe a bit too much though. There was an uneasiness in his posture, like he wasn't feeling comfortable being where he was. His body was very still and he seemed to keep himself deliberately disconnected from the conversation about their trips. His dark eyes were alert, but there was something missing from them. She had seen this look before, but she couldn't place the where and when quite yet. And he had this way of looking at her, not exactly a cat-in-a-mouse-whole look, but a searching look nonetheless. And certainly not as cold as his sister's.

For it was quite obvious almost immediately that Scarlett was somehow invisible to Rosemary. The reason behind that attitude, however, was far from obvious. She wasn't looking at her and she was addressing her only when Scarlett was asking her a direct question. And even then, Rosemary was answering politely, a warm smile in her full lips completely unlike the cold and distant look in her dark eyes. A look transformed into adoration in a blink when her eyes turned to her brother. Was she disapproving of his choice of a wife? But what for? They had just met, why would she… A sudden thought cross her mind. Could it be that Rosemary knew about their marriage? But how could she possibly know? Scarlett was far from claiming to know her husband, but she knew one thing about him well enough; Rhett would never talk about their marriage to anyone. He would never admit that he married a woman who used to love another man. He was too proud to do so. What was it with Rosemary then?

"You are being paranoid," she told herself. "She only met you today for the first time after being married to her brother for 6 years. Did you expect her to warmly welcome you into the family just like that? Would you have if you were in her place?" No was the answer to her own question.

* * *

Long after Eleanor had retired, Ross went out for a drink and Scarlett thought that Rhett needed some time alone with his sister, so she bade them good night as well. Rhett caught her at the stairs.

"Thank you for this," he said softly.

"You are welcome," she smiled at him.

"I won't be long," he caressed her cheek.

"Be as long as you like," she began to climb the stairs. "Just make sure to wake me up if I'm asleep," she gave him a mischievous look over her shoulder.

"That, I will," he laughed.

Rosemary was waiting for him at the parlor. He knew what the conversation would be about so he poured himself a drink.

"You weren't particularly successful in hiding your feelings tonight," he grinned taking a sit at the armchair across her.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said carelessly.

"Rosemary, you were ignoring her throughout the evening."

"I can't help it if I don't like her," she admitted.

"You've just met her. You don't know her. How can you not like her already?"

"I know all I need to know about her."

"And what's that?"

"I know she hurt you and that's reason enough not to like her," Rhett could hear the aggressiveness in his sister's voice. Talking to her back in September was a huge mistake. But she showed up unexpectedly in Atlanta and he so desperately wanted to talk. He regretted it the moment he became sober again and it was too late to take anything back.

"You only know what I've told you, Rosemary. Maybe you should try and form an opinion of your own before rejecting her."

"Are you defending her now?"

"I'm just saying."

"What is she doing here anyway? I couldn't believe my eyes when Mother wrote it to me."

"Is that why you came back in such a rush?" he chuckled. "You were supposed to stay in Europe until late January."

"Partly," she grinned. "I also wanted to be here for Christmas. I wouldn't miss your first Christmas home."

"What did Mother tell you?" he asked.

"Mother seems to be really fond of her. She filled in pages and pages praising her contribution to the Committee. Was she all that good?"

"Surprisingly enough she was," he sighed.

"But haven't you told me that..."

"I've told you too many things that I shouldn't have," he cut her off.

"Have you changed your mind?" she glared at him curiously.

"I don't know," he said.

"What happened, Rhett? Why did you bring her along?"

"Her sister-in-law died," he said.

"Ashley's wife? But then, didn't that serve you with your plan?"

"Sometimes I think you are too much like me for your own good," he gave her a depriving look.

"You couldn't leave her. Is that it?"

"No, I couldn't. Not like that."

"Did you even talk to her about the divorce?"

"I couldn't put that on her shoulders as well, Rosemary. The timing wasn't right. It would have been too much."

"I don't get it, Rhett. I really don't. What about you? How much more can you take? You told me you were sick of her."

"I was."

"You are not anymore?"

"Things between Scarlett and me had always been complicated. Let's just say that we are in the process of sorting them out."

"Sorting them out?" she exclaimed, but he quickly waved her to keep her voice down. "Rhett, she had put you through hell for the past six years. What else do you need?"

"We have done some serious talking over the last weeks, probably for the first time ever. I came to realize that she is not the only one to blame, Rosemary. I had my part in all this mess."

"Please," she exasperated. "Don't tell me she got the nerve to blame _you_ on top of everything else."

"No, she didn't. On the contrary. Since we came here, she is… different."

"How so?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. She is reaching out to me like she had never done before," his voice low as if talking to himself. "She is not indifferent or distant anymore. And to be honest I don't know if she ever was or it was just me presuming so," he raised his head and looked at the distrustful face of his sister. "It doesn't make much sense, does it?" he gave her a tired smile.

"No, it doesn't. You cannot seriously believe that a tiger can change its stripes, do you?"

"No, but it can grow up."

"Alright. So she's grown. Can you trust her?"

"Not yet," he shook his head.

He went silent for a while, his mind travelled to the room above them wondering if she was still awake. The desire to find himself lying next to her felt like a natural need. He craved to touch her. It suddenly stoke him that he was in the wrong place.

"I want you to be nicer to her," he asked. "She is no fool, you know. She will understand that something is wrong eventually."

"Rhett, I can't," she protested. "Not when I know…"

"You know nothing, Rosemary," he cut her off again. "Please stay out of this. It's not your mess to fix. Just do as I ask, will you?"

"I'll try," she unwillingly gave her consent.

"Thank you," he smiled. "Everything is too fragile right now. Scarlett and I are trying to figure out if there is anything salvageable in our marriage. I don't know if we are going to make it. Time will tell. During the last six weeks though, we have been more of a husband and wife than in the last six years. I don't want to jeopardize that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I do," she nodded.

He stood up and went to her.

"Good night, Sissy," he said softly placing a kiss on her hair.

"Good night, Rhett."

He moved towards the stairs but halted at the door.

"Just give her a chance, Rosemary. I'm sure you'll come to like her in the end."

She heard his steps on the stairs.

"I highly doubt that," she murmured to herself.

* * *

He quickly took off his clothes and climbed in the bed next to her. His fingers removed her hair from around her neck leaving it completely exposed to his lips. He slid one hand underneath her nightgown and caressed his way across her leg up to her flat stomach.

"Don't try too hard. I'm still awake," he heard her murmur.

Laughter rumbled in his chest. He turned her to him and lay on top of her.

"All the better for me," he muttered and before she had a chance to speak his tongue dived into her mouth.

His fingers tangled in her hair holding her head down possessively, his other hand exploring the length of her body. It lingered teasingly on her thighs gently forcing her legs to part. He slid one finger inside her, his mouth on hers absorbing her moans, his own body screaming to feel her.

"Ready for me, Mrs. Butler, are you?" his voice hoarse with desire.

Was it his touch or this endearment, often used as a barb in the past, but now uttered so sultrily? Whichever it was, her mind simply stopped. She opened her mouth to speak, but his finger teased her again and she moaned instead.

"Please," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Is there something you want, Mrs. Butler?" his tongue running circles around her nipple.

"Please, Rhett," she moaned again.

"Please for what?" he whispered in her ear, while he drove himself inside her. She moaned loudly, her hands grasped his arms forcefully. "For that?" he stayed there for a second and then withdrew himself completely. She gasped for air, certain she was about to faint. She wrapped her legs around his waist desperately pulling him to her.

"More?" he asked. She couldn't bring herself to speak. "Look at me," he demanded and she obeyed. "More?" she faintly nodded. "Say it, Scarlett," he ordered. "More, Rhett," she breathed and he gave it to her.

This time he didn't leave her though. With his mouth on hers to savor her sweat, her hands tightly entrapped in his fingers above her head, he had her. He soon felt her tightening around him, her whole body shaking uncontrollably, incoherent groans coming out of her swollen lips. It was more than he could take. Unable to hold himself any longer he let out a heavy moan and met her climax with his own.

* * *

_Please review! Thank you, thank you, thank you! :))))_


	9. Bittersweet Christmas

_Writing about Christmas in the mid of June with the temperature here in Greece up to 35 degrees ... That was weird! :-) It's finally done though and I hope you'll like it! _

_Thank you all for viewing and reviewing! A special thanks to those following and favoriting .. I would really like to see what you think, so please review as well! :-)_

_As always.. Thank you, Anna, for the brainstorming and the constant nagging! _

* * *

CHAPTER 9

Buying presents was one of the things Scarlett enjoyed the most about Christmas. This year however turned out to be the hardest thing to do. King Street was so beautifully decorated, each window more inviting than the next one. Was she in a better mood she would have probably gone crazy by now. The Christmas spirit was all around, but she didn't feel it. In spite of it all, she was forcing herself to choose presents for everyone, especially for Rhett. It was the most difficult task in the world to find something that he should like. He was always so self-sufficient. He never seemed to be in need of anything at all. And this year should be something really special, something that would show him how much she had changed and how much he meant to her. She knew though that her search would be in vain. Nothing would be able to distract him -them- from the fact that this would be the first Christmas without Bonnie. They wouldn't wake up from dawn at Christmas morning, because Bonnie would be too eager to open her presents to stay in bed later than 6 o' clock. The memories were flooding her, she couldn't help it. It only stroke her now that last Christmas was so special. A ostensibly happy family around the Christmas tree, nothing alarming them of what 1873 would bring. Death seemed to be a constant companion for them from June afterwards; first Bonnie, then Melly. She simply couldn't wait to leave this terrible year behind.

"Please, Momma, can I have them? Please?" a boy's voice brought her back to reality. He was pointing to the window of the huge toy store. What was he asking for, she wondered and went closer.

"But you have like a million of them already, Thomas," was his mother's respond.

The boy was probably asking for the wooden soldiers. Well, she couldn't blame him for wanting them. They were so beautifully made and so lively painted she had the feeling they would begin to march anytime now. A sudden thought made her smile. She should buy them for Beau. With that thought she stepped into the store.

What a big mistake that was she realized the moment she did so. The store was like a heaven for children. Thousands of toys for every age and every taste; dolls and teddy bears, cars and trains, chesses and dominoes, wooden horses and cube puzzles. She could spot at least ten different toys that Bonnie would have liked. In one corner a band was playing Christmas carols. And she found herself surrounded by happy people holding happy children by the hand. Happy careless people, just like they were last year, when they went to buy Bonnie's presents together. Her eyes filled with hot tears and she bit her lip in an avid attempt to push them back. She wouldn't cry, not now, not in front of all these people. She should get this done as soon as possible and get out of there as quickly as her feet could walk.

She lifted up her chin, her jaw tightly clenched, and walked towards an available employee. He pointed out where the wooden soldiers were. She turned her eyes in that direction, but all she could see was her husband staring back at her. She moved through the crowd towards him. They stood there for a while, her watery eyes never leaving his, shared memories of happier days lying unspoken between them.

"What are you doing here?" she broke the bitter silence first.

"I saw these wooden soldiers at the window and I thought…"

"To buy them for Beau," she finished the sentence for him smiling faintly through trembling lips. He nodded, the knot at his throat growing tighter and tighter. She slid her hand in his, he squeezed it and picking up a set of soldiers they walked to the counters.

"She would have loved it in there, wouldn't she?" she asked softly once out of the store.

He felt a stink of guilt in his chest.

"She did love this store," he muttered.

She should have guessed.

"You brought her here that spring," she said. "Good. I'm glad you did," there was nothing accusing in her words.

More guilt, waves of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," he said.

"What for?" she pushed back another round of tears.

"For taking her away from you for three months."

"I just wish…" her voice broke and she tried to clear it. "I just wish I was in that store with both of you," she whispered.

"She wanted you there, Scarlett. She missed you so. You were all she talked about."

She raised her head to him, her cheeks tear stained, a sad smile on her lips.

"She did?" she asked full of hope.

"Of course she did. You were her mother. She loved you," he shooed away her fears. _Fears I have created_, he thought bitterly. During the past weeks he had lost count of the things he blamed himself for.

"Tell me about that day," she asked.

"If only it was just one day," he laughed softly at the memory. "We were in there almost every other day."

"I'm sure you were," she laughed as well. "Tell me about each and every one of them, Rhett. Please."

And he did. All the way back home and long after they had retired to their bedroom. Not only about that day, but about the three months they spent apart. About the things they did, the places they visited, the things they talked about, how Scarlett was always present even if she wasn't there, because Bonnie was all about "Mother would like that" and "Mother should be here". It was the least he could do to make amends for stealing three whole months of their daughter's short life from her and for depriving Bonnie of her mother.

He struggled to do so at first. He wasn't from those people who wanted to talked about the dead to someway keep them alive. She was as alive in his mind and in his heart as if she wasn't gone. She was present every single moment of every single day. Talking about her, he believed up till then, would only make him suffer even more. Everyone around him seemed to understand that and they refrained from doing so in his presence, Scarlett among them. At the end of the day however, it wasn't as painful as he thought it would be. Remembering her with her mother was part of the healing process, he came to acknowledge. It somehow made her absence a tiny bit more bearable for both of them. He knew now that with time it would become less and less tearful and eventually they would be able to talk about her and do nothing but smile, even bitterly, with all the memories.

* * *

Everyone in the mansion was astounded when Rhett showed up carrying a Christmas tree a couple of days before Christmas.

"What on earth is a tree doing in the house?" Eleanor cried in surprise.

"This is a Christmas tree, Miss Eleanor," Scarlett offered to explain. "It has become quite a fashion over the last few years in Atlanta."

"And what exactly do you do with it?"

"You decorate it with candles and candy canes and paper ornaments," Rhett smiled at her ignorance and placed several box on the table.

Eleanor's mouth dropped in shock. The family was in mourning, it was considered completely inappropriate to even suggest any decorations, let alone a Christmas tree.

"Rhett, I don't see how this is fitting," Eleanor made an attempt to put some sense into her son. "It's too soon since she…" she paused trying to find a tactful way to say it.

"_She_ had a name, Mother," Rhett said softly. "Bonnie loved Christmas. We used to decorate the Christmas tree together since she was two. Was she here, we would have done it by the beginning of December. And honestly, I don't see why we haven't."

"But, Rhett, what would people say when they find out?"

"People will say that we honor her memory," he said curtly.

"I'll help you, Rhett," Scarlett interfered to ease the tension.

"Me too," Rosemary volunteered and made Eleanor storm out of the parlor, this way stating her complete disapproval.

Rhett opened the boxes and pulled out all different kinds of candles and ornaments.

"I don't know anyone in Charleston that has a Christmas tree. This is so exciting," Rosemary laughed. "Is it really that popular in Atlanta? Or did you just say so to sweet talk Mother?"

"I do know one person in particular that made an attempt to turn it into a fashion," Rhett teased and Scarlett gave him a pat on his arm.

"It was three years ago," Scarlett began to explain to a puzzled Rosemary. "I saw this picture in Harper's Bazaar and I read the article claiming that it was already a fashion in Europe and that Queen Victoria and Prince Albert have been decorating one since the late 40's. I thought it would be a great idea to have one as well. I bought one the very same day and I was so excited about it. I decorated it and waited for your brother to come home and admire my hard work. Would you like to continue the story, darling?" she gave him a much too sweet smile.

"I was all admiration, if I recall correctly," he smiled back innocently.

"Far from it, Rosemary," she grinned. "Your brother proclaimed it to be hideous. He said I was a fashion victim and he once more underlined my horrid taste which he had wished it would improve with the association with him, but alas! But then my daughter took revenge for me," she laughed. "Am I right?"

"Yes, you are right," Rhett sighed. "Bonnie was about one by that time. She was thrilled with it. So the tree stayed."

"And your dear brother has been decorating one every single year since then," Scarlett said triumphantly.

"And this year will be no exception," he said, his voice now heavy with emotion.

"Exactly," Scarlett put a reassuring hand on his arm. He looked down at her watery eyes and smiled sadly. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

"So, where should we begin?" he changed the subject.

"The candy canes," Rosemary offered with pretended cheerfulness.

They did a wonderful job, the three of them. It was a truly magnificent Christmas tree. They placed the presents underneath it and then they lit up the candles. When Eleanor came down for supper, she had to admit that it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

No matter how hard the whole Butler family tried to keep the spirits up, the atmosphere at Christmas Eve was as heavy as it could be. Lou, the cook, did her best and prepared a hearty Christmas supper that could please even the most demanding gourmand; roasted stuffed goose and glazed ham, mash potatoes and cornbread dressing with cranberry sauce, shoe-peg corn salad and green bean casserole and for dessert pecan pie and sweet potato pie. They enjoyed it all together and they made quite an effort to engage in cheerful conversation to avert their minds from Bonnie's absence among them. After supper Eleanor and Rosemary prepared to attend the Midnight Mass at St. Michael's Episcopal Church and for the first time in years Rhett and Scarlett felt the need to attend as well.

Standing there, her husband on one side, his deep voice singing the psalms, her mother-in-law on the other side, a feeling of belonging overwhelmed her. It seemed like ages had passed by since she last felt anything similar. Back then in the years before the War when Mother and Pa were still alive. And now, after all this time she felt as a constituent part of a whole. Regardless of the circumstances, she had a family once more. Her eyes filled with tears, tears of sorrow and gratitude at the same time. For the people she had lost and she would never seize to miss; Ellen, Gerald, her childhood friends, Bonnie, Melly. For the man she still had in her life against all odds; Rhett. And for the mother she found in Eleanor. She took a deep breath and she sensed Rhett's gaze on her. She lifted her eyes to meet his and she knew that he saw through her and he understood. She shifted her body a few inches, enough for their arms to make contact, a need to connect with his body through touch she couldn't suppress. He offered his hand, their fingers entwined and she rested her head on his shoulder.

* * *

She opened one eye and peered at Rhett. His eyes were closed, his face calm, his breathing heavy. He was still in deep sleep. She cautiously lifted his arm from her and slowly slipped out of bed. His body shifted and he rested on his stomach, but he didn't wake up. She tiptoed out of their bedroom, careful not to let the door squeak and she quickly climbed down the stairs barefoot wearing nothing but her nightgown. She took a small parcel underneath the Christmas tree and quickly walked into the kitchen. Lou was waiting for her there and, if she was shocked by her attire, she didn't show.

"Everything ready?" she asked anxiously.

"It so is, Mrs. Butler. Is it as you asked?"

"It is," she gave her a broad smile while appreciating the breakfast tray in front of her. "Thank you for this, Lou," she took it in her hands.

"You are welcome," she smiled back.

"Merry Christmas, Lou," she said and walked out of the door.

She climbed up the stairs again and slowly entered their room, her head down.

"Sneaking out of the room dressed like that raises suspicion, Mrs. Butler," he startled her and almost lost her grip of the tray.

"Great balls of fire, Rhett," she exclaimed.

He was lying on the bed fully awake, one arm behind his head, a mischievous grin on his lips. _Still undressed_, she thought and she turned crimson.

"Why does it have to be so hard to do a surprise for you?" she pouted and placed the tray on the nightstand. "You were asleep when I left the room five minutes ago."

"I'm a light sleeper," he teased and then his arm was around her waist pulling her on him. "Breakfast in bed brought to me by my wife? Well, that's a surprise even if I had the indecency to be awake," he drew her to a passionate kiss before she had a chance to answer back, his hands already trying to get rid of her nightgown.

"Wait, not yet," she mumbled in his mouth and pushed him back. "I have a present for you."

"Exchanging presents can wait for later," he murmured and wrapped his arms around her again.

"You got me a present too?" she asked happily and he knew he had said the wrong thing. He let out a resigned sigh and opened the drawer of the nightstand.

"Of course I did," he gave her an envelope. "Merry Christmas, Scarlett."

Inside were two tickets for New Orleans, departure date January the 5th.

"New Orleans? We are going back to New Orleans?" she cried full of enthusiasm.

"It looks like it," he smiled with her bright eyes.

"Oh, Rhett, this is just wonderful," she cuddled in his arms. "I so wanted to go back there. I have meant to ask you for quite some time now."

"Your wishes are my commands, Mrs. Butler," he buried his lips in her hair.

"Won't you open your present now?" she asked and she gave it to him. "Merry Christmas, Rhett."

She was waiting suspenseful for his reaction, her eyes fixed on his face. He unwrapped the paper and once he saw the title on the book he sucked in his breath. It was the first edition of Alexandre Dumas' "Le Comte de Monte-Cristo" signed by the author himself.

The idea stroke her about a month ago. They were talking with Eleanor about his blockading years and she told her that Rhett wanted to be a captain ever since he read that book. It was the perfect gift. She shared her plan with Eleanor. They visited every single bookshop in Charleston, they contacted the publisher of the English version and literally turned the world upside down to find a first French edition. The bookseller of a small half-hidden bookshop finally managed to find one and they had it shipped all the way from Boston. Scarlett had almost lost hope that it would arrive on time for Christmas, so she tried to find something else up to no success. Fortunately the book arrived two days ago. She was grateful to her mother-in-law beyond words. She wouldn't have done it without her help.

He kept his eyes cast down, she couldn't make out his expression. She saw his fingers caressing the front cover, then opening it. He was now reading the inscription. After what seemed like forever, he raised his head and for the first time ever she could tell what he was feeling; he was moved. She breathed out softly. He liked it.

"How did you know?" he asked, his voice slightly husky.

"Your mother told me," she said.

He cupped her face, his thumbs caressed her cheeks.

"Thank you. This is truly beautiful," he said and she smiled content with herself.

He slid one hand underneath his pillow, his gaze growing more and more intense, and a half smile made an appearance on his mouth. He pulled out a sprig of mistletoe and held it above their heads. Scarlett burst into uncontrollable laughter. He was the most controversial man she knew.

"Where on God's name did this come from?" he acted all surprised. "Damn it! I fear I have no other choice but to kiss you," he said dramatically and his lips captured hers hungrily.

With one fast move he had her lying on the bed, his full weight on top of her, his hands roaming relentlessly underneath her nightgown.

"Can I claim my other present for the day now?" his voice low and seductive.

"And what that may be, Sir?" she purred innocently, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"My wife's beautiful, welcoming body," he dived his tongue impatiently in her mouth, too eager to feel her to wait for an answer.

* * *

_Don't you love wikipedia? I know I do... Here are some interesting facts about the above chapter:_

_Note No1: Christmas trees became common in America at the 1870's... Type Christmas tree and see the picture in Harper's Bazaar I'm referring to in this chapter... I did mess with the dates a bit to fit my purpose... :-)_

_Note No2: "The Count of Monte-Cristo" was first published in French in 1844. Rhett was probably 16 by then, So it is plausible that he could have read the book, isn't it? _

_I have the next couple of chapters half written already and school is officially over, so hopefully it won't take that long to update again! Rosemary will show her teeth in the next chapter! Until then... Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you! :-)))_


	10. Enemy at the gates

_Thank you all for viewing and reviewing! _

_As promised, here is Chapter 10... Rosemary is showing her teeth... I enjoyed writing this chapter very much! I hope you will enjoy reading it as well! _

_Well, enough with the bubbling... Let the war begin... :-)_

* * *

CHAPTER 10

After spending a whole afternoon in King Street trying to organize their trip to New Orleans in such short notice, Scarlett's single wish was to return home, take a hot bath and just lie on the couch for the rest of the evening doing practically nothing. Alas! This was not going to happen any time soon, she thought with frustration, when she stepped through the door. Sitting in the parlor along with Eleanor and Rosemary was Caroline Sharp. And sharp she was to the letter, especially her tongue. The first time she met her she thought Caroline was a very agreeable lady. She was in her early forties, short and fleshy, her round face always smiling and flushed, two smart brown eyes observing everything. She was a widow, one of the many that the War created; her husband died at the Battle of Antietam back in 1862. Unfortunately they didn't have children and she was currently living with her old mother, the only relative she had left. She appeared to be really fond of Scarlett from the moment they were introduced. Scarlett was thrilled with that, for Caroline was pleasant and funny and she saw a possible friend in her. Rhett almost choked with laughter, when she told him so the very same day and Eleanor tried really hard to suppress her giggles.

_"My dear," he uttered, when he caught his breath, his eyes watery from all the laughing, "you remain absolutely hopeless when it comes to judging people."_

_"Pray, can you elaborate, if that's not too much to ask?" she said icily. How dared he offend her like that in front of his mother?_

_"What Rhett means, darling, is that you should be really careful around Caroline," Eleanor made an attempt to smooth her daughter's-in law feathers._

_"Whatever for?" she wondered. "She is such an adorable person."_

_"Well, yes, she is a darling. But she is also Charleston's number one gossip teller," Eleanor explained kindly and caused a second round of roaring laughter coming from Rhett._

And there she was standing up to greet her, all smiles and compliments, when she entered the parlor.

"Why, Scarlett, it's so good to see you! How are you, my dear?" she took her hands in hers and squeezed them slightly.

"Caroline! What a pleasant surprise! I'm fine, thank you! And you?" she faked a sweet smile.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Scarlett?" Eleanor stepped in.

"I would love one, Miss Eleanor," she looked at her with gratitude and took a seat next to Rosemary."Good Lord," she whispered to her in a conspiring voice. "Which poor creature is she dredging up today?"

Instead of a giggle a grim look was all she got.

"Actually, it is quite an interesting story, Scarlett," she whispered back. "I'm sure you will come to like it."

Scarlett arched her eyebrows up in unpleasant surprise and opened her mouth to demand an explanation, but Caroline's voice drew her attention.

"You arrived just on time, my dear. I was just telling the ladies about the Evanses. The juicy part is about to begin," she chose her words carefully making sure Scarlett would take the bait.

"Henriett and Francis Evans?" Scarlett puzzled.

"The very same," she said all too emphatically. "I understand your astonishment, believe me. They were such a quiet couple. Who could have guessed that they would be in the centre of such a scandal!"

"A scandal? Why? What happened?" curiosity got the better of her just as it was expected.

Caroline was in the gossip telling for years. She knew exactly how to present a story and prolong the suspense until her audience would be hanging from her lips. _This _story deserved all her talent.

"It all happened at the Christmas Ball the other night. It was an undeniable success, as you must already know. We were having a marvelous time. The punch and the champagne were flowing, the music was excellent. It's been years since I danced so much," she laughed. "Suddenly we heard loud voices coming from the outside. Imagine how loud the voices were, because I tell you, the music was loud enough! We all stormed out in the garden terrified. Something terrible much have happened," she paused for a second to emphasize. "Henriett and Francis were standing right there, screaming to each other like madmen. The names they were calling each other… Dear God! I can't even bring myself to repeat them!" she sighed with embarrassment forcing herself to blush even more.

She scanned the parlor to ensure that she still had everyone's undivided attention and then her eyes gleamed with excitement. It was time for the best part.

"Apparently," she stressed the word "Francis went in search for his wife and he found her in the garden… in the arms of another man!"

Before she had a chance to react to the information, Scarlett felt Rosemary's eyes gawked on her. She turned to face her and what she saw made her blood turn cold.

"I told you it was an interesting story, didn't I?" she grinned maliciously, her eyes full of resentment.

_She knows_, she thought in panic. _How is that possible?_ Her mind was working frantically trying to find the answer to that question. Could she have acquaintances in Atlanta that informed her? But this would mean that she inquired about her. And why would she do that? Since her arrival, Scarlett was nothing but pleasant to her. She knew that Rosemary was skeptical about her, but she had hoped that with time she would relax. She was Rhett's beloved sister. All she ever wanted was for them to get along. But since she knew, her whole attitude made perfect sense. In Rosemary's eyes, she was the vicious, cheating wife. How on earth did she find out? And what about Miss Eleanor? Did she know too? The single thought of Eleanor resenting her was unbearable. No, anything _but_ that.

"Scarlett, darling, are you alright?" Eleanor's concerned voice brought her back to reality. "You look really pale."

"She is shocked, Eleanor," Caroline said. "Isn't it obvious? How can she not be? The magnitude of the scandal!"

"Dear Caroline, certainly it's not the first time she hears of something like that. She probably has a lot to add from her own experience. Am I right, Scarlett?" Rosemary said in a flat voice.

Was she going to expose her? Was that her plan all along, but just waiting for the right opportunity to occur?

"Rosemary!" Eleanor exclaimed. "How could Scarlett have an experience like that? The mere suggestion!"

Scarlett exhaled inwardly. Eleanor didn't know.

"Mother, naturally that's not what I meant. Scarlett lived in Atlanta for years," she looked at her again. "Rhett had repeatedly told me what a modern city it is. I'm sure you had plenty of scandals like that."

Was she implying the unthinkable? No, no, it was impossible. Rhett would never do that. Would he? No time for that, she thought. And as always Scarlett's monumental coolness in the sight of danger kicked in. She wasn't going to make it easy for her. Not without a fight. She gave her sister-in-law an innocent smile, her eyes flashing in warning. _Later_, was the loud and clear message. Rosemary gave her an even look. _Later_.

"I'm afraid I will disappoint you, Rosemary. I don't think I can recall any scandal as big as this one," she turned to Caroline. "So, do we know who this other man is?" she asked.

* * *

Shortly before supper Scarlett entered the library ready to face Rosemary. Thankfully Rhett wasn't home yet. She found her sitting on the armchair reading a book. Apparently she was expecting her for she didn't even raise her eyes from the book.

"You put on quite a show earlier this evening," she said icily.

"Me a show? You are the one acting her role around here," Rosemary answered calmly.

"Am I? How so?"

"You can fool everyone, Scarlett, but you can't fool me. I know about your reputation back in Atlanta. You have been banned from decent society for years. And if it wasn't for your late sister-in-law, no decent family would receive you."

"You seem to be very well informed," Scarlett grinned. "It makes me wonder though. You of all people should know that appearances can be deceiving. You are, after all, the sister of a man who wasn't received either. Who people think he is and who he is in reality are two completely different things."

Rosemary didn't see that coming. She was taken aback.

"You are nothing like my brother," she protested.

"Are you sure about that? He seem to think we are cut from the same cloth. And he knows me much more than you do."

"You can't blame me for being suspicious about a woman who I met two weeks ago after being married to my brother for six years."

"I don't blame you for being suspicious. That, I understand," she was beginning to lose patience. "What I don't understand is why a clever woman like you chooses to base her opinion on gossip instead of forming one of her own. What I also don't understand is you acting sweet and kind in front of you brother and be nothing but hints and jabs behind his back. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't trust you," she stated.

"And what exactly do you think you can achieve by acting like that? How will your brother feel if he finds out?"

"I suppose you plan to inform him?" Rosemary derided.

"No, I don't. It may come as a surprise to you, but I care about your brother. He loves you and he wants us to get along. Your mother as well. That's why I'm here."

"Look at you, being affectionate and considerate about _my_ family."

"They are my family too. Your informants didn't do a very good job after all. They should have told you that there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect my family."

"Are you threatening me?" she asked.

"No. I'm just being frank with you. I won't have you distressing them, because someone filled your head with silly ideas about me."

"Even if that someone is your very own husband?" she spat and made Scarlett's breath caught in her throat.

"Do you honestly think I would believe something as hideous as that?" she asked incredulously.

"Believe it or not, it's true. Rhett told me everything about you marriage. So spare me the whole "I love my husband" speech. It may have worked with Mother, but it won't work with me."

"For the loving sister you proclaim yourself to be, you betrayed his trust very easily, Rosemary. What does that say about you?" Scarlett said and from the way all color was drained from Rosemary's face she knew she had touched a sore spot.

She moved to the door with the air of someone who had won a battle. She halted at the doorway and turned to Rosemary again.

"One last thing. Consider it a friendly advice from a _married_ woman," she stressed the word loud enough. "Duplicity and back stabbing aren't among the virtues that a man values when he sets to choose a wife."

Rosemary turned crimson and her eyes flashed with rage.

"And that's an advice coming from a woman who buried two husbands and made the third one consider a divorce," the words came out before she could stop them. Too late. Scarlett's jaw dropped ajar and Rosemary knew she had said too much. Scarlett wouldn't never let _this_ go. They heard the front door open and they knew that Rhett was home and this conversation was temporarily over.

* * *

It was an unusually quiet supper. Rhett was observing his sister and his wife closely. Something was terribly wrong. Scarlett was grubbing her plate listlessly, keeping her head down. Rosemary appeared to make quite an effort to swallow her food.

"Could you pass me the salt, please?" Rosemary asked Scarlett.

And she did, without even making eye contact.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome," came the mumbled response.

"Is everything alright?" he dared to ask.

"Yes," they answered in unison and they raised their gaze to him, faking smiles. Apparently for the sake of Eleanor whose eyes were rapidly going from one to the other in clear bewilderment.

And there in front of him was the answer to the mystery. Rosemary's eyes were filled with guilt and remorse. Scarlett's, on the other hand, were gleaming dangerously. She was way past furious. Damn it! He had hoped against hope that Rosemary would keep her promise. It was more than obvious that she didn't. Scarlett knew. How much?

"If you'll excuse me, I think I will retire," Scarlett said flatly and threw her napkin on the table. "I have a horrible headache." And with that she left the room.

He gave Rosemary a stern look, which only caused his sister to drop her head apologetically.

"Rhett, she is not sick, is she? She barely touched her food," Eleanor worried. "Please go and check on her."

When he went upstairs to find their bedroom door wide open and the guestroom door closed, he knew that the damage was far more severe than he had feared. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"It's me," he said.

"_You _can go to Halifax and never come back," was the angry response.

He turned the doorknob.

"Don't you dare come in here, Rhett Butler," she warned.

He opened the door anyway.

* * *

_I thought about including the second fight of the day in this chapter, but it would have been too long... I also wanted to prolong the suspense... :-P_

_Please review and tell me what you think! :-)))_


	11. On the same path

_More than 100 reviews and over 10000 views! WOW! I don't have enough words to thank you for this! _

_Anna told me the funniest thing about the previous chapter. "Poor Caroline!" she said. "The biggest scandal for more than a decade expanding in two counties was under her nose and she didn't have a clue about it." :-))))))) I can't stop laughing whenever I think about it... Poor Caroline indeed! _

_I know it was evil to have kept you waiting for the fight between R&S... I finished sooner than expected, so here it is now... Hope you'll enjoy it!_

* * *

CHAPTER 11

"Didn't I just tell you not to come in here?" she cried.

"You also told me to go Halifax and I didn't do that either," he said calmly and closed the door behind him. "What happened, Scarlett?"

"Do you have the nerve to ask me what happened?" she shouted. "You lying, two-faced scoundrel! You cad! You hypocrite! Running around and telling people all about your cheating little wife, are you? That must have been fun! I assume you only told them my bads, didn't you? Portraying yourself as the martyr who suffered for years because of me. A noble and respectful citizen of Atlanta devoted and faithful, who was too ashamed of his wife's behavior. Is that it? Nothing about the glorious blockading years and the money you made during the War or about being a scallawag afterwards. And nothing about you owning a whore house and bedding each and every one of those whores and drinking and gambling. No, of course not! The real you doesn't fit with the image of perfection you try to sell. Did it feel good, Rhett? Humiliating me like that?"

"It wasn't like that," he offered to explain, but she was too angry to be cut off.

"Who else knows? How many more laugh behind my back beside your sister?"

"I didn't tell anyone else. If you let me explain…"

"I don't want to listen to your explanations. You are nothing but lies. You brought me here, you introduced me to your mother, you made me believe that we had a chance to make this marriage work. And at the same time you talk about a divorce. A divorce," she exasperated. "Is that what you want? This is what you'll have then. In fact I'm leaving right now!"

She stormed out of the room and headed to their bedroom. Rhett followed her there only to find her throwing her dresses on the bed.

"What do you think you are doing?" he was beginning to lose his temper.

"I'm packing my things. You want to get rid of me and I'm making it easier for you. I'm giving you your freedom. And I don't want to lay eyes on you ever again."

"Scarlett, stop it. This is enough."

"Do not give me orders, Rhett Butler," she yelled. "I'll stop whenever I want to."

"Scarlett, stop what you are doing and sit down," he stood in front of her, tall and imposing, his eyes boring into hers, and she took a step back. He grabbed her hand with a quick move. He wouldn't let her run. Not before he had a chance to explain.

"Turn me loose," she hissed trying in vain to escape his iron grip.

"I will. But I don't intend to chase you around the house. Sit down," his voice stern and commanding.

Was he trying to intimidate her? To make her feel small and vulnerable? It wasn't going to work this time. She lifted her chin up and looked at him daringly.

"Are you trying to frighten me?" she grinned.

"No, I'm trying to put some sense into you. You are overreacting. You must sit down and listen to me."

"I _must_ do nothing like that. Did you hear anything I said? I'm leaving."

"No. You are not. Not yet anyway. You will sit down and you'll listen to what I have to say. Once you do that and I'm done, you will be free to leave if you still want to."

"I will not sit here and listen to your lies."

"Yes, you'll listen. Even if I have to lock you in here with me all night until you do."

She considered her options and she couldn't find any.

"Fine," she consented irritated. "Will you let go of my hand now? You are hurting me."

He did and she sat on the bed.

"There are always two sides on a story, Scarlett," he began to explain patiently. "You only know one side of it. Let me tell you my side."

"Do you seriously think there is a plausible excuse for what you did?" she scoffed.

"No, I don't. There is no excuse for what I did," he agreed. "I was wrong and out of line and you have every right to be mad at me."

She was stunned. Rhett would never admit a mistake.

"Is this some kind of a trick?" she hesitated.

"I'm not trying to trick you, Scarlett. I'm saying plainly enough that I don't have an excuse to offer."

"What do you have to offer then?"

"Actions must be evaluated in relation to the given circumstances," he said. "I will offer you the circumstances hoping that you will be able to understand my actions."

Why did he always have to talk with riddles? She said nothing and Rhett went on.

"It all happened in early September. I was so angry back then. Angry with everyone; with you, with me, with the whole world. I was in pain and I had no one to turn to. I was trying to find comfort at the bottom of the bottle. I was the joke of the saloon; drinking until I lose consciousness, getting into fights for insignificant reasons. Anything to make me forget," he sighed.

She knew exactly what he was talking about. She had a vivid image of the scary stranger he had become during last summer. Always drunk and untidy, his face bloat and puffy, his eyes glassy and bloodshot, disappearing from the house for days in a row. She shuddered at the memory.

"And then Rosemary came to visit, shortly before she set off for her trip to Europe. She stayed at the National Hotel for a week. We spent those days together and I tried really hard to be presentable and hold back my liquor in her presence. And it worked. But one night it didn't. I so desperately needed to talk and my sister's shoulder was right there next to me. Unfortunately I had too much to drink. I have very vague memories from that night. All I know is that I woke up at the couch of her room the next morning with a horrible headache. I had no idea how I ended up there in the first place. Once the excess alcohol was out of my system, words and phrases from the conversation were coming back to me and I knew I had revealed things that I shouldn't. How many I couldn't tell and I was too embarrassed to ask. Apparently I said way too much," he paused and looked at her. She appeared to be less tense and angry. She was listening carefully.

"I didn't do it to humiliate you or to appear better in the eyes of my sister. I regretted it the next morning, but it was too late. I couldn't take anything back. But then I thought that the chances of you two being acquainted were significantly low," he concluded, but to his surprise rage flared up in her eyes once more, more powerful than before.

"Because you wanted to divorce me," she said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, Scarlett," he sighed. "Because I wanted to divorce you. In fact I wanted to leave you the day you came back from Marietta."

"What?" she yelled in a high pitch voice and she jumped on her feet. "You wanted to leave me the day my best friend died?" this was by far the most hideous thing he had said to her.

"That was the initial plan, yes," he confirmed. "Then you came back from Melly and we talked. And by that I mean really talked. After that I couldn't bring myself to leave you."

"Did you pity me?" she spat the words with disgust.

"I thought you knew me better than that."

"Up until this evening I knew my husband would never talk about our marriage to anyone," she said coolly. "Obviously I was wrong. So answer my question."

"Do you seriously believe that if I wanted to leave you, pitying you would be enough to make me change my mind?"

She shook her head no.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I can't tell. I just knew that I couldn't leave you. Call it instinct."

She turned her back at him. There was one more question she wanted to ask him, but she feared the answer so much she couldn't utter it. What if he said yes? Was she ready to deal with it? Would she be able to pack her things and leave? Would she be able to live without him? The mere thought of losing him was getting her out of breath. Yet she couldn't go on without knowing. She gathered all her willpower and turned around with the determination of a person about to face her destiny.

"Do you still want a divorce?" she asked with slightly trembling voice.

"No," he said without a hint of reluctance.

She shut her eyes and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably and she hid them in the folds of her dress. She felt his hands on her face.

"You promised no more lies," she unconsciously brushed her cheek on his palm.

"Open your eyes and look at me," his eyes bored into hers. "I'm not lying to you."

"Why should I trust you?" she breathed.

His thumbs caressed her skin softly. He leant over her, his lips inches away from hers.

"You can't kiss your way out of everything, Rhett," she startled him and she took a step back. She couldn't think clearly when he was so close to her. She needed the physical distance. "Answer me. Why should I trust you? What if you wake up one morning and you are bored of me? What then?"

"You are anything _but_ boring, Scarlett," he teased.

"That's not the answer to my question," she insisted.

"Fine," he said and without an explanation he walked out of the room.

He went down the stairs and into the library. Rosemary was there and once she saw him she stood up.

"Rhett, I…" she uttered.

"Not a word, Rosemary," he cut her off sharply.

He opened the drawer of his desk, pulled out several sheets of paper and left the library without giving her a second look.

He returned to their bedroom and offered Scarlett the papers.

"There," he said. "Do whatever you want with them."

She looked down bewildered. It took her a few seconds to realize she was looking at the actual divorce papers. She wasn't prepared for that. Knowing he thought about it was one thing. Knowing he took actions about it was another. All color was drained of her face. She desperately gasped for breath, but the air around her wasn't enough. She was suffocating. She put her hand around her throat.

"Scarlett, what's wrong?" he fretted. "Sit down."

He helped her sit on the bed and she obeyed listlessly.

"You…filed…you…brought them…kept them…" she stammered incoherently.

"Come here, silly," he pulled her in his arms and held her close. Her body was shivering. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I only wanted to show you that I meant what I said. I don't want a divorce anymore."

She stayed in his embrace, her face buried in his neck listening to his comforting murmur until she regained her composure. The divorce papers were still crumpled in her hand.

"Take them away from me," she let them fall on the floor.

"What should we do with them?" he asked carefully.

She raised her face to him.

"You decide," she said.

Rhett stood up and threw them in the fire. He turned to her.

"Better?" he smiled.

"Much better," she smiled back relieved.

* * *

Later in the night, lying naked in his arms, her body deliciously exhausted from his lovemaking, it felt safe to investigate the subject a bit further.

"Rhett," she murmured, while her fingers played idly with the hair on his chest.

"Yes," he hummed in a cloud of smoke.

"What did you see that day that made you change your mind?"

"I'm not sure I can put it in words, Scarlett," he sighed.

She didn't say anything, but he could feel her tense waiting for him to continue.

"Maybe it was the things you said. Things that I should have seen, but I didn't. They caused a shift of perspective. Never before did I put myself in your shoes. It was easier to blame you for everything and keep myself immune."

"Why did you keep those papers then?"

"Scarlett, my perspective shifted, not my character," he mocked. "Bringing you here with me was a risk. I didn't know where this would go. I needed a safety net."

"And you don't need one anymore?" the hope in her voice was evident.

"That will depend on you, my dear. Charleston is full of lawyers. I'm sure I'll find one to help me if you make me change my mind again."

"Rhett," she protested and punched him on the chest. "I'm serious."

"Ouch," he exasperated, but his face turned straight again. "No, I don't need this kind of a safety net anymore," he admitted.

"For your information though, if you need a divorce again, you will have to travel all the way to Atlanta."

"Atlanta is it? Any particular reason for that?"

"As far as I know there is no such thing as a divorce in South Carolina."

"Please satisfy my curiosity, my pet. For a person so appalled with the idea of a divorce, you seem to be very well informed. May I ask why?" there wasn't much humor in his voice anymore.

"It's not the first time you whisked a divorce in front of my face, Rhett. You did so again just before you left for Charleston with Bonnie. I needed to know my options."

"On the ground of abandonment?"

"No. On the ground of not wanting to find myself abandoned _and _divorced at the same time," she said icily.

"I would never do that," he said quietly.

"Said the man who wanted to leave me the day Melly died," she snapped.

"Touché," he resigned.

He pulled her closer and kissed her hair.

"Atlanta isn't that far away, when you come to think about it," he made an attempt to lighten up the mood again.

She hesitated for a few seconds trying to determine whether she should push it further or not, but she decided against it. She had enough fighting for one day.

"Too much trouble, if you are asking me," she taunted and he chuckled.

He put out his cigar and he snuggled in the bed holding her tightly.

"Rhett?" she asked again after a while.

"Yes, Scarlett," he couldn't hide the laughter in his voice. God, this woman was stubborn.

"You said you didn't know where this was going. Do you know now?"

"I was hoping _this_ was going to sleep, but apparently I was mistaken. Alas!" he teased.

"Great balls of fire," she exclaimed. "Why is it so hard to give me a direct answer?"

"I know that we have a long way ahead of us," he said cautiously.

"But are we on the same path?"

"Yes, I think that finally we are on the same path."

Silence fell. She could feel his body relaxing as he was drifting off to sleep.

"Rhett," she said again.

"Oh, Good Lord!" he murmured. "Am I going to get _any_ sleep tonight? What now?"

Her stomach grumbled before she even spoke and he burst into laughter. She had barely touched her dinner after all.

"How can a tiny person like you produce such a horrible sound like this is beyond me," he teased and gave her a frisky kiss. "I'll go to the kitchen and see what I can find, baby."

"Thank you, darling," she purred contently.

* * *

_This is it... Hope it was worth the waiting... :-)) Please review and tell me what you think! :-))_


	12. Ross Butler

_Hello, my dear readers and reviewers! Thank you all for your constant support and your comments!_

_This chapter was supposed to be about their trip to New Orleans... But then Amaranthe pointed out that I have forgotten about Ross... Which is true... So, this one is going to be about Ross and the next one will be the trip to New Orleans... Thank you Amaranthe, for the reminder and for the fruitful conversations regarding Ross! _

_I came to like Ross very much while writing this chapter... I hope you will too... Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 12

Scarlett was sitting in the parlor flickering through a magazine, when she heard the knock on the door. A few minutes later, Ross made an appearance in the room.

"Good morning, Scarlett," he saluted.

The drawling Charlestonian accent was much more evident in his voice than in his brother's. She loved the sound of it. It was as familiar to her ears as Gerald's Irish one.

"Good morning," she said with a smile.

"Is Rhett here? I was hoping to have a word with him," he explained his reason for being there straight away.

"No, I'm afraid he isn't. Nor anyone else except for me," she answered. "But I think he will be back soon. Would you like to wait for him?" she offered. "I can call for some coffee. Or tea, if you prefer."

He hesitated for a brief moment, but eventually he nodded in agreement.

"Coffee, please," he said and he took a seat at the armchair across her. "Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"I am married to your brother for six years," she laughed. "Even if I did mind at some point, I'm quiet used to it by now."

Ross shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Her joke went missed.

"I understand that you live at the Dunmore Landing, is that right?" she made an attempt to engage him into conversation.

"Yes," he replied.

_The conversation won't progress much if he keeps answering with one word_, Scarlett mused_. _

"Where exactly is it located?"

"All the way up the river, at West Ashley."

"Rhett told me that the house was burned down during the War, if I recall correctly," she said.

"Not completely. The back of the house and the slave cabins were burned along with most of the gardens, but the front of the house remained pretty much untouched."

"Is it habitable?" the idea of living in a half-tore down house was beyond her reasoning.

"At first it wasn't. I had to fix it up and do certain adjustments to make it livable and comfortable."

"And you did that on your own?" she wondered.

"Yes," Ross nodded.

"Do you live there alone?"

"Along with my servant Joseph."

"How is it? To live there alone?"

"Quiet," was his brief, ambiguous answer.

Her face turned cold in a blink. What was wrong with the Butler siblings?

"I beg your pardon. Am I too talkative for your taste?" she asked coolly.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," he sighed. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I'm not used to being asked questions about me, that's all."

"I thought we should get to know each other a bit better. Would you rather spend the rest of your visit in silence?" she inquired, less offensively this time.

"No. It's just that I don't understand why a woman of the city would be so interested in a plantation."

"I didn't grow up in the city. I thought you knew it. I'm a country girl myself," she smiled proudly.

"Where from?" he sounded interested.

"Clayton County, Georgia. I have a plantation there too named Tara."

"Tara?" Ross arched a brow. "That's an unusual name."

"My father was Irish," she explained. "Tara means the hill of the Kings. According to Irish mythology, it was the capital of Ireland where the Kings presided advised by druids."

"What kind of a plantation do you have?"

"It's a cotton plantation. And to be honest, it isn't entirely mine. I share it with my other two sisters. One of them lives there with her husband and their children."

"It survived the War then," he assumed.

"Yes," she smiled. "We were fortunate enough and the Yankees used it as their headquarters. But many of the neighboring plantations were burned to the ground."

It had been almost ten years and the memory of Twelve Oaks was still vivid in her mind.

"Anyway," she shooed away the image with an impatient gesture. "Yours was a rice plantation, am I correct?" she changed the subject.

"You are. I want to bring it back to life. At least that's what I'm trying to do for the past five years," he confessed.

"Is it in a bad condition?" at last, they seemed to have found familiar ground.

"It was. After the fire the land was deserted, so the rice fields turned back to marsh fields. Not just our land, but most of the plantations. Many families lost everything, including ours."

"So what are your plans?" she requested.

"Do you really want to know?" his dark eyes gleamed with excitement.

"I asked, didn't I?" she encouraged him.

Ross then began to talk. He turned out to be very talkative when he favored the subject. He told her about the house; how it used to be in the glorious days before the War- a fine example of Georgian Palladian architecture- and how he wanted to rebuild it exactly as it was. He also shared with her his plans about the rice fields. It was difficult at first. Very few people were willing to help him. Working on the rice fields was a very hard thing to do. He managed to find some of their former slaves and offered to hire them as free darkies. They had to clear the swamps all over again and rebuild the dykes. Then they had to repair the winnowing barns. At the moment he had several people working for him, but they were still short handed and they could only work on less than half of the fields, thus the production was very limited. It wasn't enough to even cover the basic expenses, like wages and next year's crop, and most of the time he had to cover these expenses from his own pocket.

He found it so easy to talk to Scarlett. He found himself impressed with his sister-in-law. She wasn't just a pretty face; a very beautiful face, if he wanted to be honest with himself. She also possessed a very sharp, shrewd mind. Dunmore Landing was his one true passion, but very few people found that topic of conversation interesting and far fewer shared his enthusiasm, when he started talking about it. When Scarlett asked about his plans though, she wasn't just being polite, like so many other women before her. She seemed to be really interested in what he had to say, making very accurate remarks and asking questions straight to the point. It all made sense of course, since she was raised in a plantation. Still, she was such a refreshing company.

Engaged deeply into conversation as they were, they didn't hear that the door opened. Rhett heard his wife's laughter and he also recognized a man's voice. It was to his surprise that he found Ross and Scarlett talking vividly in the parlor.

"Hello," he saluted.

Both of them stood up to greet him.

"I came by to talk to you and Scarlett was kind enough to keep me company while I was waiting. You came right on time," Ross laughed. "I'm afraid I bored her to death with my bubbling about the plantation."

"Not at all," she reassured him and put a hand on Rhett's arm. "Rhett, how come you never talked to me about the rice cultivation? It is so interesting."

"More interesting than red soil and cotton?" he teased. "Who could have guessed?"

"Oh, do be serious," she scolded him with a pat on his arm.

"I told Scarlett that you can come and visit whenever you want," Ross offered.

"We would love to visit. First thing after we return from New Orleans," she said. "Right, Rhett?"

"Your wish is my command, Mrs. Butler," Rhett smiled mockingly. "Ross, should we talk in the library?"

"Mother and Rosemary will be home soon. Ross, you _will_ stay for dinner," Scarlett said.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," Ross made an attempt to refuse, but Rhett cut him off.

"Don't you even try, Brother," he put his arm around his shoulders. "It wasn't a question."

"Thank you, darling," she gave her husband an approving smile.

* * *

Scarlett was sitting on the bench in front of her vanity unpinning her hair.

"Rhett," she asked. "Was Ross always a loner?"

After spending the day in the company of her brother-in-law she had come to like him. She wanted to know more about him.

"No, he wasn't always like that," he replied. He sat next to her and took the brush in his hands. "He was a very cheerful boy, when we were little," he smiled sadly and began to brush her hair.

"He was?" she wondered in surprise. "He is so restrained. I can't picture him as anything else but a shy, timid boy."

"Quite the opposite. He was very pleasant and easy going, good mannered and polite. A truly adorable boy. If it wasn't for me, no one would ever consider scolding him."

"_You_ were the bad influence, who else?" Scarlett laughed. "I'm sure you were a little monkey."

"More like the devil incarnated," he chuckled. "Ross is only three years younger than me. Rosemary came much later, so for many years it was just the two of us. We were very close. Ross was worshiping me, the way little brothers worship the big ones. My word was an order, he wouldn't question anything I said or did. And he was loyal to the bone. He would rather die than tell on me. As soon as he stood on his feet, he was following me everywhere. I was teaching him everything I knew and he was so obedient to me that he soon became my partner in mischief. We were getting in trouble the moment Mother turned her back to us," he laughed softly.

"What happened to him?"

"Our father and I happened to him," he sighed. He stood up and went to the window. "Since I was the eldest son, my father expected from me to be the pride of the Butler family. Ross was inevitably in my shadow. By the time I was fifteen, everyone in the family knew that I wasn't going to turn out the way my father wanted me to. I was too stubborn, too uncompromising. I wouldn't comply to the rules. Rules are made to be broken, I used to say," he grinned. "I would object to anything imposed upon me. I was independent and free spirited. My relationship with my father was becoming more and more intense over these years. We were arguing from dawn to dust about anything. When I was expelled from West Point, my father wasn't speaking to me for weeks. A very convenient state of affairs, truth to be told. But then came that girl and her brother calling me out for exposing her. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Father threw me out of the house in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes I was wearing," he paused. His face was hard and impenetrable.

Scarlett shivered. She had heard that story before, but it was as shocking as the first time. She knew that, even after so many years, it was still painful for him to recall it. She felt the urge to go to him and take him in her arms. She remained seated and silent instead, waiting for him to continue.

"Rosemary was too young and she doesn't remember much, but Ross was devastated," he said. "From that day after I was considered dead. Father disinherited me and no one was allowed to utter my name in his presence. A swing of favoritism took place then. Ross became the center of my father's attention and he transferred his domination to him. My freedom signaled the end of Ross' freedom. Ross, being the exact opposite of me, was an easy mark. He couldn't say no to him. He gave him a free rein and soon enough our father took full control of his life. He turned Ross against me, poisoning his mind with lectures about loyalty to the family and honor. It took us years, long after our father was dead, to talk to each other again."

He reached out for a cigar and he smoked for a while in heavy silence.

"Then the War came and we lost everything," he went on eventually. "The plantation house was burned, the fields were left unattended, the city house was lost over taxes. When Ross came back from the War, he found his old life in ruins. The world he was born into no longer existed. He had to struggle for survival, not only for himself, but for Mother and Rosemary as well. For the first couple of years he did any job you can imagine to provide for them. But you know very well how things were after the War. Nothing he did was enough. They were living at the edge of poverty," his voice boiling with rage. "Father was too proud to ask for help from relatives. I tried to make amends for the shake of my mother and sister. Father refused to see me, despite Mother's pleadings. He sent Ross instead. I offered to assist them in any way I could, to give them money, but Ross turned me down. Dirty money he called it, and he threw it back to my face."

"And when your father died?" she asked cautiously.

"When the tyrant was out of the way, I was able to help them the way I wanted. I bought this house for my mother and Rosemary and I am supporting them ever since."

"What about Ross?"

"Ross didn't want to live in the house that my money bought, so he fled for Dunmore Landing. He felt betrayed. I understand that now," he confessed. "He was the honorable son, the one that played by the rules and fought to keep his hands clean and, yet it was me, the resolute son, the black sheep of the family, who saved the family from starvation. You see, I was thrown out of the house, I lived in dirt for years and I succeeded against all odds. I was and always will be the living proof that our father's lectures were wrong; that Ross based his life on lies."

"But how does he make a living?" she wondered.

"He gets involved into any kind of business to earn money and sink it to the plantation. But mainly I support him."

"You give him money?"

"I give money to Mother, which is practically the same thing. I don't check where Mother spends the money and Ross pretends he doesn't know where the money comes from."

"How come he didn't marry?"

"He had a childhood sweetheart," Rhett replied. "Her name was Evelyn. We used to play together as kids. She was a beautiful girl, blonde with fair skin and hazelnut eyes. She was living at a small house near our own, in Dunmore Landing. Poor folks, her parents were. They had a small piece of land and her father was the overseer at a neighboring plantation. Very nice people, quiet and hard working."

"And Ross was in love with her?"

"Yes, and she with him. I always thought they were going to marry."

"What happened?"

"Evelyn was from a lower class," he responded. "White trash, Father called them. She wasn't a suitable match for the son and heir of Edmond Butler. When Ross told him he wanted to marry her, he was furious. He threatened to throw him out of the house as well."

"Oh no," she exclaimed. "Did he fight for her?"

"He tried, but Father was adamant. So Ross was forced to comply."

"What about Evelyn?"

"She was heart broken, I suppose. I haven't seen her for years. All I know is that, when Ross came back from the War, he searched for her. He found out that her parents died during the War and their house was burned too. She had married someone else and she was living in the city. Whether she chose him or she was forced to marry him, because she was left alone, I can't tell. That was the final blow for Ross. He withdrew to himself even more and he retired from society."

"Poor Ross," she whispered. She was growing more and more fond of him by the minute. "Is this why he wants to relive the plantation? "

"I guess he needs to believe that not everything is lost," he presumed. "It has done him good, this plan of his. It worked both ways. Bringing Dunmore Landing back to life brought him back to life as well. It gave him a purpose. Something to fight for."

"Pa used to say that," she said softly. "The land is the only thing worth fighting for, because it is the only thing that lasts," she quoted, a sad smile on her lips. "I understand Ross. This is how I feel about Tara too."

"You always had a thing for lost causes, my pet," he grinned.

"You don't think he will make it?" she puzzled.

"Not with erratic movements, no," he stated. "What he wants to do needs thorough, long term planning and plenty of money. And he lacks in both."

"Not everyone has a head for business, Rhett," she protested. "You should help him."

"I try to, when he comes to me for advice," Rhett explained. "That's the reason he wanted to talked to me today. I try to dissuade him from businesses that stand no chance of success, but he is very easily carried away and he won't listen to reason. During the last couple of years he is making one wrong investment after another."

"But he is wasting his money. That's madness," she exclaimed in dismay.

"Money will always be your sore spot," Rhett laughed with the appalled expression on her face. "Is this the point where Ross falls into disfavor with you?"

"He doesn't strike me as stupid, Rhett," she intentionally ignored his barb. "Why is he acting so stupidly?"

"You forget that he is a Butler too. Stubbornness runs in the family."

"Well, someone has to put some sense into him," she retorted.

"Be my guest, my dear," he made a jeering bow. "It would be quite a diversion to stand by and watch your attempts to put sense into a Butler's head."

"You never know," she walked over to him slowly, a playful smile on her mouth. "My charm worked with one Butler," her gaze rested on his lips, "maybe I will be as lucky with the other one too," she raised her eyes and looked straight into his.

He placed his palm on her cheek, his thumb caressed her lips gently.

"What makes you think your charm worked with me?" his intense stare made her heart pound under her chest, her breathing grew shallow.

"What makes you think I was referring to you?" she asked in a low voice.

He laughed softly. His hand slid to her neck and his fingers searched for her pulse.

"Which one makes your heart beat so frantically, Mrs. Butler?" he breathed to her ear.

"My husband," her mouth caressed his skin, "and my husband only," she whispered, her lips on his.

* * *

_This is it... How do you find him? Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you!_

_P.S. I'm terrible at finding names, especially for a plantation... So, I borrowed Dunmore Landing from "Scarlett". You don't mind, do you? :-))) I did find a new name for their father though... He was Steven in"Scarlett" and Langston in "Rhett Butler's people", but I didn't like either of them... So I re-baptized him Edmond! It stroke me as very authoritative.. :-P_


	13. New Orleans

_Hi everyone! I'm truly sorry for the long delay... Summer, holidays, searching for a job all these got in the way and kept me busy! Thank you all so very much for reading, for reviewing, for poking and for being patient! _

_This is their trip to New Orleans! I hope it will be worth the long wait! Enjoy! _

_Mature content disclaimer... Again... It's not my fault, it's theirs! They can't keep their hands off each other! :-))))_

* * *

CHAPTER 13

They were staying at the same hotel they spent their honeymoon. At first it felt weird, being in that same suite where everything started. It seemed like yesterday that Rhett had carried her, his new bride, in his arms through that same door. That they were sleeping on the same bed they had made love for the first time. Every corner of the suite brought another memory, most of them bittersweet. So many things had happened since then. They were nothing like the young couple almost seven years ago.

What was he thinking, she wondered. Was it his way of saying that they had zeroed and it was time to start over? She didn't know and from a point after she didn't care to ask. Somehow, after the first couple of hours, everything seemed so new and different. The first surprise came when she opened the cupboard. Several new dresses were waiting for her there in every possible color. Green, blue, dark red, mauve, purple, but not black. She stared at them in disbelief. It had been eight months since she wore anything but black.

"While we are here, you are not in mourning," he explained softly leaning leisurely at the door a cigar on his hand.

A shadow of guilt crossed her face. "Rhett, maybe it's not…" she murmured.

"No one will know. Your secret is safe with me," he smiled reassuringly. "Pick one. We are going for dinner at Antoine's tonight."

Her favorite restaurant at St. Louis Street. The memory of that Oyster Rockefeller dish made her stomach twitch and any doubts were put aside.

She picked a marvelous green dress for their first night out.

Yes, New Orleans was just as exciting as she remembered. Even more exciting now. Full days were followed by full nights. Endless walks around the city, shopping and eating at the French Market, coffee at Café du Monde and then back to the hotel to get some rest. Dinner at expensive restaurants by eight o' clock, parties, cabarets, dancing and drinking until the small hours and then back to their room making love until dawn. New Orleans was a vivacious city that never slept. It was far too easy to get carried away by its constant rhythm. Maybe it was because they had spent months under the shadow of death. Maybe because they were in a place where no one knew who they were or what they'd been through. Whichever the reason, life was pushing them forward and they simply went with the flow without hesitations and without much thinking. For as long as it would last, they were once again the young, careless couple they used to be.

* * *

She woke up when she felt his arms carefully moving away from her taking the warmth of his embrace along. From the dim light coming in from the window she could tell it was still very early in the morning. She was about to turn around and fall back to sleep, when she heard water running in the bathroom. She opened her eyes and through the half closed door she saw her husband's naked body getting into the bathtub. Primitive desire rushed through her body wiping out any remnants of sleep. Her heartbeat accelerated so quickly it took her breath away. She went out of bed in a trance and pushed the door wide open. He didn't hear her. She stood at the door opening unnoticed for a couple of seconds, admiring his submerged, stretched out body. His wide shoulders, his taut arms leisurely rested on the brim of the tub, his dark wet head leaning back relaxed. She tiptoed and knelt behind him, her hands sliding slowly down his sternum, her fingers running through the thick hair on his chest. His body stiffened in surprise, but then he laughed softly. Her lips caressed the back of his neck, sucking the drops of water with her tongue. Startled by her forwardness he took a short breath that turned into a moan when he felt her hands sliding further down to his abdomen. His stomach muscles trembled under her touch. His head leant back on her shoulder giving her access to his neck and face. She feather kissed his ear, his cheek, his hard jaw, his chin until she came into full view. He opened his eyes and what he saw was her emerald eyes on fire, her red lips half parted, her whole face screaming her craving. His fingers balled around her hair drawing her into a deep thirsty kiss.

"Do you care to join me, Mrs. Butler?"

She stood up and never leaving his hungry gaze she stepped into the bathtub without caring to undress. She sat on top of him and wrapped her long legs around his waist. Her now wet nightgown stack on her body delineating her rich curves. His mind blurred. He grabbed her waist and pulled her on him his mouth already drinking her in. His hands roamed around her back greedily searching for exposed skin, but the soaked nightgown was getting in the way and he groaned in frustration. He needed to feel her right now. He lifted her up in his arms and stepped out of the tub. He pinned her on the wall fiercely and with one single move he ripped the nightgown off her. She gasped in shock, but he then buried his face in her bosom, his lips hungrily claiming her nipples, his hands stroking her hips, and she dipped her fingers into his hair moaning loudly. He drove himself deeply within her and paused to savor her warmth. They bored into each other's eyes, everything that needed to be said was there. He began to move inside her, every plunge deeper than the last, and she grasped his arms for support.

"Rhett," she began to breathe, but the powerful fiery wave washed away her entire body and his name was lost among crazed cries.

A very weak voice of sense inside his head warned him to withdraw from her, but the sound of his name choked on her lips threw him off the edge. Another forceful thrust and he met her relief with his own deep inside her.

Worn out she dropped her head on his shoulder, his frantic breathing burned her skin, and they stayed there in a tight embrace until they could breath easily again and their bodies wouldn't tremble.

"That was a hell of a good morning, Mrs. Butler," he murmured, his lips caressing her collarbone.

She laughed coyly and she sought his mouth for a tender kiss, her hands smoothing his ruffled hair. When he opened his eyes to face her, he sucked his breath in terrified. She was looking at him the way he had dreamt about. It was happening now after twelve whole years and yet he prayed she wouldn't say it out loud. She could never hold her tongue though and her lips parted.

"I love you," she whispered.

He shut his eyes again with a deep sigh. He didn't say anything. He moved them to their bed. He lay her on the mattress, his heavy body on top of her.

"And you?" she asked hesitantly.

"I…" he stopped. They promised no more lies. "I want you."

Anger flashed in her eyes killing out the hope. Disappointment flooded in her as rapidly as poison. She tried to push his body off her, but he was way too strong. He began to kiss her and she turned away from him. His hands cupped her face immobilizing her head and his lips caressed hers.

"No," she protested weakly, when his tongue dived into her mouth and the words were lost upon her. It was a different, desperate kiss as if his life was depending on it.

He made love to her again, gently and tenderly this time, trying to wipe out her bitterness with kisses, touches, caresses. His body was all he could offer her. His three words remained stuck on his throat unutterable. Her three words kept ringing in his head, along with the loud crack he heard on the well preserved shell around his heart.

* * *

"I don't want to lie to you," he whispered his lips buried in her hair.

"I appreciate that," she sighed. "But that doesn't mean it hurts any less."

He didn't have anything to say to that and he remained silent.

"Tell me a story," she asked.

"About what?" he smiled.

"Anything. I don't want to think anymore. Please."

"Would you like to hear about the first time I came to New Orleans?"

"Yes," she nestled closer to him, her small body enveloped around his.

"I arrived in New Orleans sometime after midnight the very next day after my father kicked me out of the house. I had a few bucks in my pocket and nowhere to stay. And I needed a drink badly," his story began. "I wondered around the city and I ended up in a saloon at the French Quarter. I couldn't hold my liquor very effectively back then and I hadn't eaten much in two days, so a couple of whiskeys were enough to knock me out completely."

His voice had a careless tone, as if all these had happened to someone else and he was just citing facts. She tried to picture a twenty something-year-old Rhett, hungry and alone, walking around the streets penniless and the image failed to amuse her. This wasn't going to be another pastime story. He was trying to tell her something.

"I must have fallen asleep on the bar, when a soft female voice woke me up."

_"Hey, there. Can you hear me?" the voice was heard from far away - "Can you hear me?"- and was getting closer and closer. He opened his eyes and blinked several times disorientated. _

_"Where am I?" he whispered hoarsely. _

_"You had too much to drink and you passed out," there was no mockery in her voice. _

_His eyes focused on the woman leaning over him; moon size face, huge almond eyes, small yet full lips, long straight light brown hair. She was around his age, maybe a bit younger, but he couldn't be sure with all the makeup on her face._

_"Who are you?" he asked._

_"I am Jeanette. And you?"_

_"Rhett," his offered hand met with her cool delicate one._

_"You are new around here," it was a statement._

_"I arrived today."_

_"You run away from home," another statement. She knew too much. Should he trust her? She was working in a saloon and yet her eyes were as innocent as a child's. _

_"Kicked out of home to be exact," he made his decision. _

_"So you don't have anywhere to stay for the night. Do you have any money?"_

_Rhett searched his pockets and found nothing. He had drunk his last money. _

_"I thought so," she smiled kindly. "Wait for me outside. I'll be done in half an hour."_

"I slept on her couch that first night and several nights after that until I could earn some money."

"Why did she do it? She didn't know you," Scarlett wondered.

"She told me she recognized the look on my face. You see, Jeanette was kicked out of her home too. Maybe her own life would have been very different, had she met a good person to take her in on her very first night in New Orleans."

"Why was she kicked out?"

"For the exact opposite reason than me. I was kicked out because I refused to marry a girl I exposed, but never touched. She was kicked out because she was pregnant and that bastard refused to marry her."

"She had a child?"

"A baby boy. Alexander."

Suddenly, she knew why he chose this particular story and where it was heading. Her heart slipped a beat.

"Rhett," she raised her eyes to him. "Is Alexander the ward you once told me about?" her voice was barely audible.

"Yes. Do you want to hear the rest of the story?"

She nodded wearily and he went on.

"I was at the saloon every single night since then drinking, playing poker and waiting for her to finish her shift and accompany her home. Within the first month I became a professional gambler on the steamboats on Mississippi and I was able to support myself. I moved out of her small room and rent a room of my own. We would still spend the weekends together and I remained a regular at the saloon."

"So she was a…" she couldn't say it out loud.

"Yes, kind of. She was forced to do it, because she had to survive and provide for her son. But she wasn't cut from that kind of clothe. She never made a good name on the job, she was too choosy."

"Did you…?"

"Sleep with her?" he laughed. "No. We didn't have this kind of a relationship. We were friends. She offered me a place to stay and a plate of food when I had nothing. I never felt anything but pure gratitude for her and the need to help her and the boy in any way I could."

"Were you giving her money?"

"Indirectly. She was very proud and thus very easily offended," he smiled sadly with a far away memory. Scarlett felt the sting of jealousy, but she pushed it aside as irrelevant.

"You were providing for Alexander," she assumed.

"Yes. Presents, clothes, books, toys. Anything for her boy was welcome. She never refused me that allowance."

"Where is she now?"

"Don't rush. I'll come to that. I was already living in New Orleans for a year. One night I waited for her outside of the saloon to walk her home and she came out looking very distressed. At first she refused to tell me what was wrong. She told me it was none of my business, that I wasn't responsible for her and she could take care of herself. Eventually she confessed she was pregnant again. She laughed at my shocked face and added that I needn't worry because she wouldn't have the baby."

Scarlett's breath grew shallow, cold sweat broke on her back.

_"Scarlett, I saw a girl die that way once. She was only a… well, but she was a pretty sort at that. It's not an easy way to die." _His words echoed in her ears.

"You've talked to me about her before," she breathed overwhelmed with emotion.

"I'm glad to see you were listening to me from time to time," he made an attempt to lighten up the mood and softly caressed her hair. "I used every argument I could think to talk her out of it. I even offered to marry her and raise the baby as my own. She was not to be moved. Her mind was made up. She would not condemn another child in disgrace. She only wanted one thing from me. To go with her. And I did," he paused, his voice losing its steadiness. He took a deep breath and moved on.

"Getting rid of a baby is risky and dangerous even today. Imagine what a sloppy and deadly procedure it was back then. Especially for a low woman like Jeanette. No decent doctor would do it. So she settled for a butcher. Everything went wrong. She was already three months pregnant, a far too advance state to stand a chance of success. She was bleeding heavily and the supposed doctor couldn't stop it. I knocked on every physician's door in New Orleans trying to find one to treat her, but they refused to deal with a prostitute," he clenched his teeth in anger. "She bled out in my arms. She was only twenty two years old."

"Oh, Rhett," she exclaimed tears dropping down her face. "The poor girl! What about Alexander?"

"She asked me to take care of him just before she died. I couldn't say no to her. So, I became his guardian," he sighed. "But Jeanette's death was too much to bear. I was so angry with the injustice in it. She was too young, too good hearted. She didn't deserve a life so hard, an end so painful. I stayed in New Orleans for another month or two, long enough to find a decent home to place Alexander, and then I fled to California. The rest of it you pretty much know."

"Tell me about him," she asked.

"He was such a sweet child, very much like his mother. He has her colors, her huge innocent eyes. I couldn't refuse him anything when he was looking at me with those eyes," he smiled, but his smile faded right away, his face weighted down with sorrow again. "The same eyes that bored into me the day I left him at that home. They still haunt me at nights, you know. He didn't cry. He was just staring at me, accepting his fate, the grief of the entire world in his gaze."

"Rhett, you did the best you could for him," she comforted him. "You were so young yourself. What else could you have done?"

"I could have stayed around, have him live with me," he was talking to himself. "I don't know. Anyway," he murmured. "I tried to visit as often as I could, but it wasn't always easy. The first years were very tough for him. When he was old enough to go to school, I found the best boarding school the city had to offer. I truly hope his life improved for the better. I used to spend the Christmas holidays with him and several weeks during the summer. He was a little devil by then, but he turned out to have a strong brain. His teachers kept praising him to me, his grades were getting better and better every year. He wanted to go to college and study medicine. And he is," pride was evident in his voice.

"Is he still in New Orleans?"

"Yes."

"Can I meet him?" she requested.

He turned a surprised look at her, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," she smiled reassuringly.

* * *

Any faint doubts she might have at the back of her mind about who Alexander's father was disappeared the moment she set eyes on him. Alexander Turner was a young man of medium stature with light brown hair and huge amber eyes. For a man who had faced life's cruelty since he was a baby, his eyes remained surprisingly innocent.

"Uncle Rhett," he exclaimed when he saw him, his round face lit up with happiness and he offered his hand for a handshake.

"Come here, boy," Rhett drew him into an embrace instead that made him turn crimson.

"I'm not a boy anymore, Uncle Rhett," he murmured embarrassed, but he lingered into Rhett's arms a moment too long before he withdrew. "I didn't know you were in New Orleans."

"It was a last minute trip," he offered him a white lie. "Let me introduce you to my wife, Scarlett."

"I've heard so much about you," he smiled coyly. "I'm so glad to finally meet you."

"Me too, Alexander," Scarlett smiled back.

"We came to take you to dinner. Do you have any plans?" Rhett asked.

"Even if I had, they just got canceled," Alexander laughed.

They spend the rest of the day together. Alexander was very modest and he seemed to become more timid in Scarlett's presence, but after a while he relaxed around her and he was able to engage in conversation without turning red every time Scarlett asked him a question. She was observing their relationship closely. The young man held profound love and admiration for his guardian and he valued his opinion greatly. Which was only natural since Rhett was the only family he ever knew. His character was mild, but she could detect a strong will lying underneath the composed surface, a powerful determination to fight against the cruel reality that fate had planned for him. She knew this feeling, this drive to survive. It was the only weapon she had when –around Alexander's age- she was forced to deal with death, poverty and starvation. It was not an acquired ability. Personal experience had taught her that you are born either with or without it. Jeanette had passed it on to her son. Rhett's influence had made Alexander's will to thrive however. Of that she was certain. It was the same influence that Rhett had in her life too.

* * *

Later that night while waltzing in his arms she asked the question she wanted to ask all day long.

"Rhett, why did you talk to me about Alexander now?"

"No more lies equals no more secrets," he explained. "This was the biggest secret I kept from you."

"This and that you loved me for twelve years," she teased.

"Well, yes. That too," he laughed.

Just then it stroke her, the true reason behind that story. It made perfect sense. He was finally letting her in. He wanted her beside him, as an equal, as a companion. She was not just a woman he married because he couldn't have her any other way. Not anymore. It was his way of apologizing. He couldn't say "I love you", but he was saying "I trust you". And she felt the need to honor that trust.

"His mother would have been very proud of him. He has all the credentials to become a fine man," she expressed her opinion about Alexander.

"Against all odds," Rhett added bitterly.

"It wasn't a matter of odds, Rhett," she smiled. "He is who he is because he had _you_ in his life. He got lucky in his misfortune."

He looked at her, apparently moved by her words. "Thank you," he said in a low voice.

"He should spend more time with you, with us. He needs a family after all."

"No one knows of his existence but you," he confessed.

"It's high time you talk to your family about him."

"It will cause a scandal. I don't want that for the family or for him. He's been through enough already."

"For everyone else Alexander could be a distant nephew from my father's side. That's all they need to know. The rest is none of their business."

"Everything in due time," he smiled with her determined face.

A final swirl and the dance was over. Yet he was still holding her close to his body. He leaned over her and for the first time in their life together he kissed her in public. The thought to protest crossed her already blurred mind –shreds of modesty still unable to banish- but his kiss was so passionate, so life absorbing that she surrendered without a fight.

* * *

_This is it... How do you find Jeanette and Alexander? _

_In the book, Rhett talked about his ward, the little boy that was taking him to New Orleans soon after Ella was born, probably about 1866 or 1867... So, I kept the dates and the ages a bit vague in this chapter to fit my purpose... :-)_

_Rhett's quote that echoed in her ears was what he had told her when she announced that she was pregnant to Bonnie and she didn't want to keep the baby... _

_Please, please review and tell me what you think! I treasure all your comments! :-)))_


	14. Rebuilding a life

_Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter! I'm so happy you liked Jeanette and Alexander!_

_This chapter was finished sooner than expected, so here it is! Back in Charleston... Enjoy! :-)_

* * *

CHAPTER 14

She was so excited about their visit to Dunmore Landing that she could barely sleep that night. It was going to be her very first time on a ship and she couldn't stop asking Rhett questions about it.

"Don't get your hopes up, Scarlett," he was trying in vain to bring her down to earth. "We are not going to travel on a luxurious ship. It's a simple ferry that carries working staff to the plantations. No comforts, no facilities, nothing like that."

"But it's a ship," she exasperated. "I've never been on a ship before."

"Let's try Ashley River first and, if you pass the test, I'll take you to the open sea for a ride," he suggested.

"Really, Rhett?" she clapped her hands happily.

"Yes, Scarlett. Really," he smiled with her enthusiasm. "You never seize to amaze me. You will always be a child in a woman's body," he kissed her hair. "By the way, Rosemary will be joining us as well."

Her spirits sank in a blink.

"Is it necessary?" she pouted.

"Scarlett, please."

"Don't 'Scarlet please' me," she protested. "I didn't start this."

"I know you didn't and I appreciate it. She made a mistake and she is sorry. Can't you just let go?"

"I don't recall her offering an apology. She doesn't like me and she doesn't even try to hide it," she complained.

"She will come around. Give her time. Do it for me," he asked.

"I am_ already_ doing it for you."

"Thank you."

* * *

Scarlett spent the entire ride going from one side of the ferry to the other barraging everyone with queries about the things they saw in each side of the river. And then she wanted to visit the captain's cabin and learn what all those instruments were for. Rhett answered all her questions smiling joyfully. Her enthusiasm was contagious. Even Rosemary got carried away by her sister's-in-law cheerfulness.

Ross was waiting for them at the dock.

"Welcome," he greeted them and offered his hand to help the ladies off the boat. "Did you have a pleasant ride?"

"This was so much fun," Scarlett said merrily.

He showed them to their horses.

"No carriages available here I'm afraid," he apologized quickly. "Do you know how to ride?" he asked Scarlett.

"Of course I do. My Pa taught me how to ride before I could even walk. It's been years since I last rode, but I think I will manage," she gave him a smile.

Rhett helped her up and they set for Dunmore Landing.

It was a warm sunny day, quite unusual for late January. Through endless meadows they drove deeper into the land. Alders and bald cypresses were dropping their shadow over the country road that lead to the landing. Ross was riding next to Scarlett showing her around. He could name each and every plantation and who the owners were. It wasn't a pleasant sight. Ruined properties, deserted houses, fields left unattended for way too long. Ross' voice was becoming heavier and heavier. She knew, she understood. She was once upon a time the witness of a similar disaster. She had seen Clayton County burned, her friends' houses derelict. And then she saw it. In front of her eyes stood the old manor house surrounded by Live Oaks.

A single "Oh" was all she could utter. It must have been a marvelous house back then. A fine example of Georgian Palladian architecture, that's what Ross had called it. Two storey high, built with brick, a double projecting recessed porch on the facade and multi-pane windows symmetrically arranged on each side of the porch. A huge amount of repair was needed, the back of the house was in ruins, but even in this condition, it was imposing, still emerging grace and grandeur. A small lake lay in front of the house, willows around it.

"It's simply stunning," she murmured.

Ross turned his head to face her and the sight of her made his heart pound loudly in his chest; her green eyes enormous, almost transparent under the bright sunshine, her lips half parted in admiration, her alabaster skin slightly rosy despite the fact that she was holding a parasol. She was a true beauty.

"Yes, it is," he breathed.

He heard his siblings' horses halting behind them and he cast his eyes down. Not before Rhett had a chance to notice his expression though. He frowned and his gaze gawked on Ross. He saw him getting down from his horse to assist Scarlett and his hands were trembling. Rhett's good mood evaporated.

"What's wrong with him?" Rosemary asked Rhett in a low voice, while stepping into the house. "I haven't seen him so talkative in years."

"I guess he is excited to have guests around," he gave her a half-hearted smile.

It wasn't what Scarlett had pictured in mind, when Ross told her the house was now habitable and comfortable. Only the ground floor rooms were livable and they had the very basic furniture. A table and six chairs in the reception room, Ross' bed and clothes in the left front room, his desk and a bookcase with a few books in the right front room and Joseph's room and the kitchen at the back of the ground floor. She was shocked beyond words. He was living like a hermit.

Joseph, however, did his best to serve them and make them feel as comfortable as possible. A strong fire was burning on the reception room and hot tea was served upon their arrival. They enjoyed a simple, but hearty dinner and then Ross took them on another ride around the fields.

Throughout their visit Rhett's eyes never left his brother and his wife. Ross was making quite an effort to impress Scarlett, presenting everything under a much more optimistic light. Scarlett, however, was his primary concern. He was observing her closely, trying to detect signs of her usual flirtation techniques in her posture -eyelashes fluttering, dimples deepening, smiles too sweet, blushing for no apparent reason- but to his relief he found none. She hadn't realized that Ross was courting her. She was listening closely to what he was saying, asking questions and commenting, but her face was the face of a woman looking at a friend. Her expression was changing only when her eyes were resting on her husband, a realization that met with Rhett's immense surprise. Scarlett wasn't encouraging Ross and that was enough for now. He would deal with Ross later.

* * *

"You were awfully quiet today," Scarlett commented while cuddling in his arms the same night.

"Seeing Dunmore Landing in such a decline isn't among my favorite things," he lied. "How did you find it?"

"I wished I could have seen it in its prime," she sighed. "Rhett, you should help Ross rebuild it. It's a shame leaving it like that. It's such an amazing house."

"He won't let me help him. I already told you that."

"You mean to tell me that you of all people can't find an indirect way to help him?"

"I'm open to suggestions," he challenged her.

"Find a business that is profitable and involve him in it. Create an imaginary investor who wants to sink money into a rice plantation. I don't know."

"I'll think about it," he consented. "You seemed to be very fond of my brother," he said nonchalantly.

"I am, Rhett," she failed to notice the faint hint of jealousy in his voice. "He has been through enough. How he lives in a place like that, I will never understand."

"He is fond of you too," he commented.

"I'm glad to see that at least one of your siblings likes me," she laughed.

"You always had your way with men, my dear. Women were never your forte," he mocked.

"Allow me to remind you that your mother likes me very much," she retorted.

"My mother is a saint and you are my wife. She would have liked you even against her better judgment," he teased.

"Are you implying, Mr. Butler, that I'm not a likable person?" she arched her brows menacingly.

"Far from me to utter such a lie," his eyes were gleaming playfully.

"Who cares?" she made a careless gesture. "You like me and that's all I need."

"I do," he kissed her nose. "Usually against my better judgment."

* * *

The idea had been formed in his mind for quite some time, but he was still hesitant. Were they ready to take such a step? Was their life in Atlanta over once and for all? Could they live in Charleston forever? Was she happy here? Was he? All these questions were wandering in his mind and he couldn't make a decision.

"Do you like it here?" he asked her one day while taking a walk at the Battery.

"You mean in Charleston?" she smiled.

"Yes."

"I like it, yes."

"Why?"

"I like that people don't know my past and I was able to make a good first impression. I feel accepted and respected here. It's been years since I last felt this way. I like that your family is here. I do love your mother dearly. She reminds me so much of mine. Sometimes it feels like I have her back. And I like the city."

"Isn't it too regressive for your taste? Charlestonians still believe the Old South is alive."

"It might have been a few years back. But I have the need to rediscover my roots. To live among folks that have been through the same as me and they can understand me. Believe it or not, after Bonnie's death I realized I missed the Old Guard's company. But my relationship with them was beyond repair. Nothing I could have done or said would have made them change their opinion for me. Especially after Melly was gone."

"Don't you miss Atlanta?"

"No, not at all," she answered immediately. "There is nothing there for me anymore. Do you?"

"Of course not. I never liked it in the first place," he said. "So, are you telling me you would consider living here for good?"

"Yes, I wouldn't mind living here for good. Why all these questions?" she smiled.

He stopped walking just outside a house she hadn't noticed before. It was a white house of Colonial architecture. Two symmetrical staircases led to a covered entry porch. The facade was accentuated with six columns rising to the second floor forming another porch. The entrance door and all the French doors had decorative surrounds. It much have been unoccupied for many years; time and negligence were slowly leaving their marks on the walls, the front garden had turned into a wild jungle.

"Why did we stop here?" she asked again.

He gave her an ambiguous smile and took a bunch of keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the gate and he managed to open it without much effort.

"Are you coming in?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I don't understand. What does this mean?" she muttered.

"It means that I own the house," he smiled with the evident surprise on her face. "Come," he took her by the hand.

It was a big house; two very large rooms on each side of the entrance stair hall, a third room and a spacious kitchen at the rear. Wooden stairs were leading to the upper floor; four rooms there and another reception room. Rhett opened the French doors of the larger front room and beckoned her to follow him outside. An exclamation of delight left her lips. The view was breathtaking. The sea was spreading at their feet. An amazing sunset was bathing everything with its reddish light.

"This on the left is Fort Moultrie on Sullivan Island," he pointed with his hand. "And that straight ahead is Fort Sumter."

She, however, remained speechless.

"Don't you like the place?" he fretted.

"Like it? Like it?" she exasperated. "I adore it!"

"You _want_ to renovate it and move here then," he teased.

"Yes," she exclaimed and stormed into his embrace.

"Good," he laughed. "So, tell me your ideas."

"Three bedrooms and a guest room on this floor," she said. "Can this large room be our bedroom, please? I want to open my eyes in the morning and look at the sea."

"Done. What about the ground floor?"

"Parlor and dining room the two front rooms and library the room at the back."

"Agreed," he nodded. "Any decoration ideas?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but she thought better and she paused. She looked straight into his eyes.

"You know what? Why won't you be in charge of that?" she suggested.

He stared at her with growing interest. "Why?"

"You barely had a say in the Peachtree mansion. It's your turn."

"I hadn't realized we were taking turns," he chuckled. "I'm asking again. Why?"

"Because you deserve to live in a house that suits your taste," she offered quietly.

"And what about you?"

"Make this room our bedroom and we can call it even," she smiled.

"Since when did you become so easy to please?" he teased.

"Take a guess," she said and she stood on her tiptoes to meet his lips.

* * *

The news of their moving out met with Eleanor's enthusiasm.

"These are excellent news. I never asked, but I was so worried you would decide to go back to Atlanta eventually," she confessed coyly. "I'm so glad you won't. I'm quite used to having you around all the time. I'd hate to have you so far away from me again," she patted Scarlett's hand gently. "Tell me about the house."

"It is just wonderful, Miss Eleanor," Scarlett began to chatter lively. "I absolutely love it. It's so beautiful and spacious. And the view… You can actually see Fort Moultrie and Fort Sumter from the porch."

She didn't notice Rosemary's quick shift of mood nor the lack of any comments from her side. But Rhett did. So before he joined Scarlett in their bedroom he made a stop at the library where his sister was.

"Sorry to interrupt," he smiled. "I'll just pick a book and leave you in peace."

He pretended to scan the titles.

"You are moving out," Rosemary said, just as he expected her to.

"Yes, we are."

"But you just came back. Why don't you stay here for a while longer?"

"We will only be a few blocks away," his tone indifferent.

"She talked you around, didn't she?" she made the mistake to ask. "This is her idea."

"What idea are you talking about?"

"Rhett, can't you see?" she stood up. "She is taking you away from us."

Rhett's face turned hard in a split second. When he spoke, his voice was low. Dangerously low.

"Don't take advantage of my tolerance, Rosemary," he was angry, she took a step back. "The very first day you came back I asked you to give her a chance and you promised you would. You broke that promise. You betrayed my trust by telling her things I had confessed to you. You made me argue with her. I chose not to talk to you then, because I could tell you'd regretted it. I hoped that you would start behaving properly. I see now that I was wrong," his eyes bored into his sister's. "I will only say it once and I hope I won't have to repeat it. I won't tolerate my sister speaking ill of my wife."

"But, Rhett, she is…" she uttered, but he cut her off with an abrupt gesture.

"I told you to stay out of this. This is _my _life, _my _marriage, _my_ wife. It's none of your business, no one asked for your help or your opinion. For the months that we will be staying under the same roof, you will treat Scarlett exemplary."

"What about her?"

"_She_ is named Scarlett. And Scarlett has been treating you impeccably since they day you met."

"Is that what she told you?"

"I can tell when she is lying, Rosemary. And she isn't. She is being very patient with you and you better appreciate it and start acting accordingly. Did I make myself clear?"

Rosemary hesitated.

"Did I make myself clear?" he demanded.

"Perfectly," she whispered.

"Good," he walked towards the door. "Don't you even consider disobeying me behind my back. I _will_ find out. Good night."

He stepped out of the room and Rosemary sat heavily on the armchair. Beaten.

* * *

_This is it! Please let me know what you think! Thank you, thank you, thank you! :-)_

_Coming next... An unkept promise remembered! :-)_


	15. A promise fulfilled

_Hello everyone! Thank you all for you reviews and the support! They keep me going!_

_My imagination in on fire, so are my fingers... This is the unkept promise I told you about! Enjoy!_

_Note: I've said it before, but I'm stating it again just in case... Although I write based on the book, I tend not to include Wade and Ella in my stories... I don't know why... Maybe it's easier this way, maybe it's because I watched the movie first! Enough with the bubbling! Off we go! _

* * *

CHAPTER 15

_"Don't you miss Atlanta?" "No, not at all. There is nothing there for me anymore."_

Those words were stuck in her mind for days. She hadn't been honest with him. She lied. There was one more thing left for her there. A promise she had given and she hadn't fulfilled yet. She hadn't forgotten it, but she had pushed it back. Her life -their life- had been her first priority during the past months. She knew deep inside that she would have to deal with it eventually. And the time had now come. Their decision to live in Charleston permanently was forcing her to get it over with. She knew what needed to be done, she had a plan. What she didn't know was how to tell Rhett.

The works at the Battery house had already begun and they were progressing fast. Builders and painters were repairing the outside, carpenters were dealing with the wooden floors and the stairs on the inside, new doors and windows had been ordered. Rhett had asked her not to visit the construction site until it was done for he wanted it to be a surprise. She protested at first. She hated being left out. So they made a deal; Scarlett promised not to visit the site and in return Rhett promised to fill her in with all the details on a daily basis. His desk in the library was soon covered with plans and they would spend an hour before supper discussing the progressing works.

"The carpenter said the windows will be delivered by the end of next week."

"Good," she nodded. "What about the dressing room?

"We had to make a few adjustments, but I think it will be exactly as you wanted it. And another thing. I will arrange for the rest of our things in Atlanta to be sent here," he said.

It was a 'now or never' opportunity, she thought. She took a deep breath and she said it.

"I can undertake that."

"Nothing to undertake actually," he didn't understand what she was implying. "I will contact Henry and he would deal with it."

"It's not just the clothes, Rhett. There are more things I would like to bring here."

"Fine, make a list then," he offered.

"I would rather do it myself," she said it plainly enough this time.

Rhett didn't speak. His gaze was making her feel uncomfortable, his face was unreadable.

"I have this idea in my head that I wanted to discuss it with you," she said uneasily. "Do you care to hear it?"

"Pray continue, Mrs. Butler."

"Since we decided to live here, I thought it would be better if we sell the Peachtree house," she offered.

"Sell your beloved house?" he asked incredulously.

"There is no point in maintaining an empty house, is it? None of us wants to go back there. Why keeping it?"

"Alright," he said cautiously. "If that's what you want, it can be arranged from here," he stressed the last word.

"I know it can. But, Rhett, we spent six years in there. I don't want a stranger to empty it."

"I can do it then." It was obvious that he wouldn't be easily convinced.

"And who is going to supervise the works at the Battery house if you leave?"

"A week off won't make much difference. Any other reason why _you_ want to go to Atlanta?" his voice was becoming hard.

"There is one more reason," she heaved a sigh of resign. "Should we sit down?"

"I'm fine standing."

He had no intention to make it easier for her. She was beginning to lose her nerve.

"Just before Melly died she asked to see me," she said and right from that instant Rhett knew where that conversation was going. "She had me make a promise."

"A promise?"

"I promised to take care of Beau for her and…" she swallowed hard, "and Ashley."

"The truth at last. And I was naïve enough to hope that I will never have to hear this name again in my life," he grinned. "Why am I hearing about this now?"

"When I came back from Melly, we talked about other things… And we left the same day of the funeral…And…You see…" she stuttered.

"I see," the coldness in this statement made her blood freeze. She wasn't explaining it properly. He was getting it all wrong.

"I promised her on her deathbed, Rhett. I can't break my promise."

"What do you intend to do about it, if that's not too much to ask?"

"I want to convey Kennedy's to Beau's name," she said.

"That's a good idea. And what about the honorable Mr. Wilkes? How exactly are you going to take care of _him_?"

"I will persuade William Davis to buy his lumber exclusively from Ashley."

William Davis was the best contractor Atlanta had to offer. Half the new houses in the city were built under his supervision. He and Scarlett hadn't been in good terms ever since she sold him shoddy lumber and he refused to do business with her again. She would find a way to make him come around though. She had her mind set to it.

"On what grounds? As far as I can tell he dislikes you to the bone."

"I will make him an offer he cannot refuse," she said flatly.

"Why get into so much trouble? Now that I think about it, you have the first wife's permission," he mocked. "The work is already cut out for you."

"What?" she exclaimed in shock. "How dare you say such a thing to me? I thought you trusted me."

"Trust you around Ashley Wilkes? Don't underestimate my intelligence, my pet," he laughed hoarsely, but there wasn't much humor in his voice.

She felt hurt beyond words. "You know how I feel about you," she breathed.

"You used the exact same words, when you professed your undying love for him, if my memory serves me well," his face held his usual mask of indifference, but his eyes were burning with rage.

He hadn't believed her. She had offered him her love and not only did he not say it back, but he was questioning the authenticity of her feelings on top of everything else. That was too much for her to bear.

"I _am_ going to Atlanta and you better come to terms with it," she said matter-of-factly. "I have to keep my promise. I owe Melly this much."

"Do whatever you want," he said in a cruel tone. "I don't give a damn."

She left the room just on time. Tears began to drop down her face the moment she crossed the threshold.

She didn't join the family for supper and, judging by the way Eleanor minced her words when she came to ask about her well being, Rhett must have gone out without eating too.

It was long past midnight, everyone else in the house had already retired, but she couldn't sleep. She was tossing and turning in the bed trying to ignore her husband's absence by her side, her ears strained against her will to hear his key in the latch. Sometime around two o'clock she heard his light footsteps on the stairs. He halted outside their bedroom for a few moments, but then he walked towards the guest room. That was going to be the first night they would sleep separately since they arrived in Charleston.

When she woke up the next morning Rhett was long gone, probably to the Battery house. She didn't want to yield. He had hurt her, insulted her, doubted her. He didn't deserve her forgiveness. When he didn't show up for dinner either, her implacability began to buckle. She thought about going out to find him, but she wasn't sure he was at the construction site. And even if he was, they couldn't talk in front of the workers. She could do nothing but wait.

She literally jumped up once she heard his voice at the hall.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted all three of them, but he refused to look at her.

"Can we talk?" Scarlett said straight away ignoring Eleanor's and Rosemary's presence.

He gave her a cold stare and waved towards the library. She preceded and he followed closing the door behind him.

"Why didn't you sleep in our bed last night?"

"Because I didn't feel like it," he said flatly. "When are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow," she said reluctantly.

"Enjoy your trip then," his hand was already turning the doorknob.

"He isn't worth it, Rhett," her words made him stop.

"Worth what exactly?"

"Us arguing about him. He isn't worth it," she repeated suddenly feeling too tired to even stand.

He looked at her, her face pale and heavy with sadness, and his expression softened a bit.

"He never was," he sighed.

"Then why are we arguing about him?"

"Why do you want to go to Atlanta now? Why not a month ago, two months ago? Why now?" he asked.

"I need a closure," she offered quietly.

"You didn't need one two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago we decided to build a new life here. The Peachtree house, the store, the promise, they are holding me back. If I want to start afresh, I have to burn the bridges."

"Is this what the trip is about?" he was still wary.

She nodded. "It was never about him. It is about me. I'm doing it for me. Please try to understand," she pleaded.

He stared at her for a long time processing her reasons.

"Alright," he consented halfheartedly.

Her body relaxed and she breathed out relieved.

"Thank you," she murmured and leant against the desk for support, her head light all of a sudden after all this tension.

He went to her quickly and lifted her face to him.

"Are you feeling well? You look pale," he knit his brows concerned.

"I didn't sleep well last night," she smiled at him.

"May I ask why?" his eyes were gleaming playfully.

She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

"Because you weren't next to me."

He kissed her hair laughing lightly.

"Do you want to come with me?" she asked.

"No. You go and I will stay here and make sure everything goes according to plan."

"It will only be a week. I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone," she reassured him.

"I will manage," he chuckled.

"You know, Melly asked one more thing from me."

"What else?"

"To be kind to you, because you love me so."

"And are you doing anything about that?"

"I'm trying, but sometimes you are making it really difficult for me to keep that promise," she tried to meet his joke, but failed. "What you said last night was a horrible thing to say," her voice fell to a whisper.

"Which one?" he sighed. "I said many horrible things last night."

"Did you mean them?"

"No, I didn't. I overreacted. I'm sorry."

She buried her face in his chest and breathed his smell in.

"Then my kindness is rightfully yours again," she teased.

* * *

The talk about what they should keep from the Peachtree house turned out to be longer than expected. They mentally went through every room in the house trying to decide. Most of Scarlett's suggestions met with his stern denial. He wanted to throw everything away.

"What about the gilt-framed mirrors in the parlor?"

"No."

"None of them?"

"None."

"I won't even ask about the pier glasses," she pouted.

"No, don't even ask about them."

"Any of the steel engravings?"

"No."

"The black walnut dining table and the chairs?"

"Don't tire yourself out, Scarlett. My answer will be no to everything," he said.

She glared at him annoyed with his stubbornness. He held a very serious expression, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. He was enjoying himself.

"Our bed?" she went on.

"Your bed actually and that will be another no."

"So you don't want anything at all?"

"I won't object to that walnut bureau a gradin of yours and the mahogany pedestal desk in the library."

"That's all the furniture we are going to keep from the house?" she exclaimed.

"Yes."

"Fine," she grinned. "Any of the paintings?"

"No, we can order new here."

There was one more room they hadn't talked about and they were both trying to avoid it. They looked at each other and their good mood faded away.

"I thought about donating her clothes, the books and the toys to the Sewing Circle for the Widows and Orphans of the Confederacy and the orphanage," she suggested and he simply nodded. "Anything you would like to keep?"

"No. If I think of anything, I would let you know. I assume we have everything covered up now," he changed the subject quickly. "Should we call it a night?"

* * *

Conflicting emotions overwhelmed her, when the train reached Atlanta's station and the carriage set off for her house on Peachtree Street. She felt like she was gone for years and not only a few months. The feeling intensified when she entered the house. Rhett was right. It was big, cold and unwelcoming. So many bad memories, so much pain took place between those huge walls.

The trip was long and exhausting and she tried to get some rest that night, but it was all in vain. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't sleep. The moment she was closing her eyes scattered images from their life there were thronging in her mind, angry words echoing in her ears and she would jump out of sleep panting and soaking in sweat. She soon abandoned hope that she would get any sleep at all and she set to pack the things that needed to be moved.

By the time it was morning, she had packed them all and Bonnie's room was empty. Everything that once belonged to her daughter was put in boxes and she was sitting on the floor staring at what was left of the child's short life. One single doll was left unpacked, the very first that she had bought for her. She couldn't bring herself to give it away. She brought it to her face in an attempt to detect any traces of Bonnie's smell on it, but she couldn't find any. She dag into her memory for hours trying desperately to remember how she smelled. How could she forget that smell? Would she end up forgetting more? The sound of her voice, the feeling of her skin? The mere thought was terrifying. She clinched the doll to her chest and gave in to a soundless sobbing.

Later that day she was standing at the door giving one last look at the house she once adored biding it goodbye. She had taken care of everything; the house was on sale, Bonnie's boxes were delivered to the Sewing Circle and the orphanage, a moving company would deal with the rest and, since spending another night in that house was out of the question, her things were sent to the National Hotel. She stepped out, closed the door behind her and exhaled. The Peachtree house was crossed off her list.

A persistent dizziness, which she attributed to the lack of sleep, kept her in her hotel room for the rest of the day. She enjoyed a hot relaxing bath, she ate a hearty meal and she slept right after supper until early the other morning. She woke up feeling restful and refreshed. She paid extra attention to her morning toilette. The second thing on her list demanded her to be as charming as ever.

* * *

William Davis stood up to greet her, a mocking expression on his round face. God, how he hated this fat, bold man. If only she hadn't promise Melly, she would have never been forced to talk to him again in her life.

"Mrs. Butler," he offered his hand. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Mr. Davis," she took his hand in a brief handshake trying to be as pleasant as she could.

"What brings you to my office so early in the morning?"

"I have a business proposition that may interest you," she smiled sweetly.

"What makes you think I will consider doing any business with you ever again?"

"Please, Mr. Davis," she fluttered her eyelashes. "Don't tell me you are still holding that unfortunate incident against me."

"Unfortunate and costly incident, Mrs. Butler. Which you didn't even offer to compensate, if I recall correctly."

"A womanly mistake I am more than willing to correct," she offered graciously.

"After all these years?" he laughed. "You must want something from me pretty badly."

"Would you like to hear my proposal?" she balled her fists trying to control her already boiling temper.

"Nothing would give me more pleasure, I assure you. Do sit down. Coffee?"

"No, thank you."

"As you wish. Let's talk business then."

"I'm here to offer you a partnership, Mr. Davis," she stated at once.

"A partnership? Why would I need a partner and a woman partner in particular? I'm doing fine on my own."

"My information tells me otherwise, Mr. Davis. You are still a successful contractor, but you are experiencing financial problems," Davis's face twitched faintly, but he kept smiling.

"Don't pay attention to idle gossip, Madame."

"I may be a woman, Mr. Davis, but I'm not stupid," she gave him a stunning smile. "The financial crisis had affected you. Why else would you request such a big loan putting your house up for mortgage?"

His face turned hard.

"How do you know about that?" he asked with disgust.

Scarlett smiled inwardly. There, she had him cornered.

"My husband owns a large share in the bank. The director was more than happy to provide me with the information I needed. He didn't want to have all my funds withdrawn from his bank in hard times like this."

He remained silent for a while, processing her words.

"Partnership in exchange for what?" he sighed.

"I only have one condition. Once we give hands, you will buy your lumber exclusively from the Wilkes' mills."

Davis burst into roaring laughter.

"That's what this is about? Ashley Wilkes? He is the most incompetent businessman I know."

"He is too honest for his own good," she admitted. "But the lumber he sells is of the finest quality. I give you my word."

"Your word? That's a joke."

"My word is as good as my money, Mr. Davis," she said icily.

"Why are you doing this?" he was interested to know. "Not for saving my face surely? Did Wilkes ask you to do it?"

"No, he didn't. And he must never know we talked. This deal, if you agree that is, will be strictly confidential."

"Why are you doing it then? What do you have to gain out of it?"

"It's not the profit I'm interested in. I'm doing it for his late wife. I gave her a promise just before she died," she confessed.

Davis starred at her, the appalled expression slowly giving its place to respect.

"Mrs. Melanie Wilkes?" he asked gently.

"Yes. We were sisters-in-law. My first husband was her brother."

"Mrs. Wilkes was a magnificent lady."

"You knew her?" she puzzled.

"She took care of me when I was injured during the War. I was badly wounded," he raised his right arm. "The wound got infected. If it wasn't for her, I would have lost my arm. I will never forget that."

"Will you help me then?" she smiled full of hope.

"I will. For the memory of Mrs. Wilkes."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Davis."

She stood up and they shook hands in agreement.

"Draw a contract and, when it's ready, I'll sign it."

"Don't you want to discuss the terms first?" he wondered.

"I know you for an honorable man, Mr. Davis. I trust your judgment. Good day."

She neatened her dress and walked out of the office leaving a completely thunderstruck William Davis behind. Ashley's future was secured.

* * *

She thought that the worst part was over for her, but she reconsidered soon enough when the carriage left her outside the small house on Ivy Street. This was the first time she would set foot in that house after Melly's death and she was anything but certain she was ready to face it. It needed to be done though, so she gritted her teeth, lifted her chin up and knocked on the door.

"Scarlett," he said, a sad smile on his lips, when he saw her at his doorstep.

He seemed to have aged ten years since she had last seen him. His once silver hair was almost grey now.

"Ashley," she took his offered hands to hers and squeezed them slightly.

"I heard you were in town. What took you so long to come and visit?"

"I had some business to attend to. I'm sorry, Ashley."

"Don't be," he reassured her. "Do come in, my dear."

She shivered the moment she crossed the threshold. Melly's presence was so vivid, as if she was still alive. They sat at the parlor, where she had spent so many hours with Melly. Her heart clenched in pain. The all too familiar knot tightened around her throat. Her watery eyes wandered around. So many memories! How she missed her! What wouldn't she give to have one more day with her.

"Beau will be thrilled to see you," Ashley's voice brought her back to reality. "He is at school right now. Aunt Pitty is on her way to get him and they will return shortly. You will stay for supper. India is in Macon for the weekend."

She felt relieved. She was definitely not in the mood to face India.

"Of course I will," she smiled.

"You left without a word," he complained.

"I had to, Ashley. I couldn't stay in this city any longer. So many bad things happened. First Bonnie and then Melly," she stopped abruptly. "I just couldn't bear it any longer."

"I know, my dear. I didn't mean to distress you," he apologized quickly. "Last year had been difficult for all of us. You are lucky that you could make an escape. I wish I could. But I have Beau to consider. He has been through enough. He couldn't handle a change of environment on top of all. Anyway, tell me your news. Where are you living now?"

"I'm in Charleston with Rhett. We are living with his family at the moment, but we will be moving to our house shortly."

"So things are going well between you two? Rumors have it…"

"Rumors are just rumors," she cut him off more harshly that she wanted. "Things between us are fine. Better than they've been in years."

"I'm really happy for you, my dear," he sounded genuine.

"Are you?"

"Yes. You deserve the best. Is he taking good care of you? That's all I need to know."

"He is," she smiled happily. "What about you? How have you been doing?"

"As good as it can be expected. The first couple of months were very difficult. Especially for Beau. But we are slowly coming to terms with her absence. India and Aunt Pitty have been pampering us to no end."

"I'm glad they are. What about the mills? How is business?"

"To be honest, it wasn't going well. I was trying to cope with my grief and I didn't have a mind for business. But the strangest thing happened the other day. William Davis came to me. He said he knew me for an honorable businessman, true to his word and straightforward, and offered me collaboration."

"Did he?" she acted all surprised. "That's wonderful news. Congratulations."

"Thank you, my dear. Scarlett, tell me the truth. You didn't have anything to do with it, did you?"

"Me and Davis? Are you out of your mind?" she exasperated. "The man hates me for half a decade now. And I'm not particularly fond of him either."

He breathed out a sigh of relief and Scarlett felt the sting of guilt. He could never tell her lies. _It's for his own good_, she was telling herself again and again.

"What brings to Atlanta?" he changed the subject.

"We are selling the Peachtree house for one. And I need your consent for the second thing," she smiled.

"My consent? What for?"

"I want to convey Kennedy's to Beau's name."

"What? No, Scarlett. No. This is out of the question."

"Ashley, please hear me out for a while and you will understand my reason," she said and he waved her to continue. "I want to dig out from under anything that binds me with this city."

"Is it official then? You won't be coming back to Atlanta ever again?"

"No, Ashley. We are starting a new life in Charleston. We are selling the house, but I don't want to sell the store. I'd hate to see it in the hands of strangers. If I had children…" her voice broke, but she forced herself to go on. "But I don't. Beau is my nephew. He should have something from his aunt."

Ashley took her hand in his. "My dear, please. You are still so young."

"That's not the point."

"That's exactly the point. Scarlett, you've done enough for us already. I can't accept anything like that."

"Ashley, you must understand. Melly was for me…" she stopped again.

"I know what she was for you as well as I know what you were for her. Her love for you exceeded the love she had for me and Beau."

She laughed softly. A wave of tenderness took over her; for Melly, for Ashley, for all the things they'd shared.

"Please let me do this. For Beau. Accept this for Beau," she pleaded.

"Fine, Scarlett. I will accept it for Beau," he gave his consent. "But you must promise that this will be the last thing you'll do for us. I need three lifetimes to pay you back," he joked.

"You owe me nothing. Don't you ever say that again," she warned. "You will insult me if you do, and I will never speak to you again."

Now that her promise to Melly was fulfilled, she felt a huge load lifting off her shoulders. She felt light and relieved. Her dealings with the past were over. She was finally free. Free to go back to Rhett.

* * *

_This is it! How do you feel about it?_

_The next couple of chapters are already written, so you should expect another update soon! Take care! :-)))_


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